Across Texas

When the sun sank behind the hills, Rickard and his party became invisible to the naked eye. The supposition might have been that they had withdrawn and would be seen no more, but for the story told by the field glasses. Under their power it was discovered that the scamps had dismounted near a small arroya or natural depression, and compelled their animals to lie down. Seating themselves at the same time on the grass, they filled too small an angle for the unassisted eye to note them across the intervening space.

Strubell turned to Lattin and spoke:

“Bell’s cunning, but he does not dream about the spy glasses.”

“We’re bound to hear from him before morning,” replied Lattin.

They did not mean that their words should be overheard, but Nick caught them all, though he affected ignorance.

The next sentences were meant for the youths.

“Hadn’t we better move over the trail into the hills, Ard?” asked the younger Texan, as though the idea had just come to him.

“Why should we do that?” inquired the other, as if in surprise.

“Well, you know of that spring where we’ve camped many a time, and once had the brush with half a hundred Comanches. There are more rocks and bowlders there, and everything is a blamed sight better for a fight than it is here.”

“Now, Baker, you aint so foolish as to think Bell and the others mean to disturb us?” asked Strubell, apparently forgetting the words uttered by himself only a few minutes before.

“Well, maybe not, but you know as well as me that it won’t do to trust him further than you can see him.”

“I tell you, Baker, what will be better,” spoke up Strubell, like a man with a new and brilliant idea; “we’ll send the boys ahead to the spring with the pack horses, while we wait here and find out just what Bell is up to.”

“That is a good plan,” added Lattin heartily; “let’s do it.”

The Texans now turned to Nick and Herbert, as though they did not suspect they had caught any of the conversation.

“Boys, we want to watch Bell and the others for a while, and have made up our minds to let you ride some distance over the trail, while we stay here and watch. I have proposed it, and Baker agrees that the plan is a good one. You have no objections?”

It occurred to Nick to ask in what way it was likely to improve their eyesight and the power of the glasses, by sending him and Herbert off. Surely their presence or absence could not operate one way or the other. The proposition was not very profound or bright, but, keeping back his thoughts, he promptly answered:

“Herbert and I are always ready to do cheerfully whatever you decide is best for us.”

“Thanks! – spoken like a man. Now, you see the trail just beyond,” added Strubell, pointing to a faintly marked path; “it has been used since the days of old Moses Austin and Sam Houston, and is so plain that you can’t miss it. It leads into the hills for a quarter of a mile, and then turns north through a sort of valley. A little more than half a mile further, and you will come upon one of the prettiest springs of water in Texas. There’s where you will unsaddle and make camp for to-night.”

“When will you join us?”

“We hope to do so in the course of a few hours, but don’t be alarmed if you see nothing of us before morning.”

CHAPTER XII.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

BEFORE parting with the Texans, Nick Ribsam handed his field glass to Strubell, with the remark that he and Lattin would be likely to find it of use, and it could be well spared, since Herbert had one of his own. The coffee was prepared before the breaking up took place, for the cooking utensils were to go with the boys, and the men did not expect to have much leisure for preparing the delicious refreshment.

The trail, to which several references have been made, showed no evidence of having been recently travelled, though, in the course of time, a great many animals must have found their way through the hills by that route, which Nick took, with the pack horses stringing after, and Herbert bringing up the rear.

It was too strait to admit of two horsemen riding abreast, and there were places where there was none too much room for a single animal. The path wound in and out among and around bowlders and large rocks, with stunted vegetation here and there, all the time steadily ascending, until a height of several hundred feet was attained, beyond which the descent was gradual, until the same level was reached on the other side.

The distance across the ridge or small mountain spur has been named – about one-fourth of a mile. It is probable that it was first made by the feet of wild animals when they were more numerous in the neighborhood, and was afterward used by Indians and hunters in passing to and fro through that portion of Texas. It was not the first time that the speechless part of creation has blazed the path for the pioneer to follow after them.

Nick Ribsam, having placed himself at the head of the little party, started his pony, Jack, on a moderate walk, the others following at the same pace, with Herbert and his Jill at the rear. They had named their animals that day, and both were surprised at the intelligence, speed, and endurance they developed. It was impossible for the boys not to form a fondness for the ponies, since they were so worthy, and showed a strong affection for their masters.

The sun was well above the horizon, and the youths had plenty of time at command. At the highest portion of the path, where the space was broad enough for a dozen animals to stand side by side, the boys came together.

“I guess,” said Nick, from his saddle to Herbert on his right, “that you understand what all this means.”

“I suspect,” replied the elder, “that Strubell and Lattin are preparing for a fight with Rickard and his men.”

“I’ve no doubt that’s it, and they want us out of the way; they are pretty shrewd fellows, but I can’t help wondering what answer Strubell would have made, if I had asked him how our absence would be likely to help him and Lattin better than our presence. Well, no doubt they have good reason to want us beyond gunshot; we couldn’t give them any help, and might prove a hindrance, and they think too much of us to allow us to run into danger when they can prevent it.”

“Nick,” said Herbert, as if giving expression to a thought that had been in his mind for some time; “I wish I could think as you do about things, but I can’t.”

The younger lad looked at him with surprise.

“What’s the odds, if we don’t see everything in exactly the same light? But I am not sure that I understand you.”

“Let’s dismount for a few minutes.”

The open space where the four animals were standing was so walled in by masses and piles of stone and vegetation that, although considerably higher than their friends at the foot of the ridge, the latter were invisible. By climbing a large, irregular bowlder, the Texans were in plain sight.

“Don’t let them see us,” said Herbert, “but let’s watch them for a while: maybe you can explain things, and maybe you can’t.”

Nick was a little disturbed by the words of Herbert, though it should be stated that it was not the mind of either to suspect the Texans of anything but the truest friendship toward them; but it looked very much as if something was on foot which they wished to keep secret from their younger companions.

Strubell and Lattin were standing beside each other, with their whole attention directed eastward, where Rickard and his companions were known to be. At the moment the boys observed them, the elder Texan was holding the field glass levelled, while Lattin was doing what he could in the way of observation by shading his eyes with one hand. They were too far off to learn whether any words passed between the cowboys.

“I don’t notice anything to cause question,” remarked Nick, after viewing the couple for several minutes. “They are simply studying the horse thieves over yonder, in the hope of finding out something about their purposes. We have been doing the same thing, off and on, for a number of hours.”

“And you think there will be a fight?”

“It looks that way; it seems to me that Strubell and Lattin are satisfied that those fellows yonder are bent on stealing our horses, and that they are likely to hang to us for days and nights, in the hope of getting a good chance to do so. So our friends have made up their minds that the best thing is to settle it at once, and by sending us off they have cleared the deck for action.”

“You put it very well,” said Herbert, whose admiration of his companion’s brightness never grew less; “and maybe, since you have explained some things so well, you will tell us about others.”

The youths now took turns in studying the group across the plain. The sun was out of sight behind the hills to their rear, but the eastern horizon, being relieved from the glare, was more favorable than before for observation through the instrument.

The three horses of the rogues were seen to be on their feet, with their riders standing beside them, as if about to climb into the saddles. One of the company, evidently Rickard himself, was several paces in advance of the others, as motionless as a statue, and evidently staring in turn toward the Texans at the foot of the ridge.

“It looks to me,” said Nick, passing the glass back to Herbert, “as though he is using a field glass: can it be possible?”

“What is there so wonderful about that? The cowboys may not be fond of spy glasses, but it would be strange if some of them did not employ all the help they could get in their business.”

Ceasing the conversation for the moment, the boys gave their whole attention to seeing what they could see.

Lattin, having passed the glass to Strubell, stepped back to where the fire was beginning to burn low, and threw on a few sticks. When the ascending smoke increased in volume, he took off his broad-brimmed hat and waved it in an odd way over the blaze. The result was that the volume of smoke, instead of ascending vertically, was broken into what might be called a regular irregularity, the appearance being peculiar and different from anything the the youths had ever observed before.

“That’s a signal to the horse thieves,” said Herbert, “and I would give a good deal to know what it means.”

“So would I,” added Nick, more disturbed by the sight than he was willing to admit.

It looked as if Herbert was right, but, if so, the singular feature of the business was that all the signalling seemed to be done by Strubell and Lattin. Nothing, so far as could be perceived, was sent in response by Rickard.

If there were actual communication going on between the parties, it was beyond the power of Nick and Herbert to frame a satisfactory explanation. Why intercourse should be held at such long range, when seemingly there was no reason for the mutual playing off, was a problem beyond ordinary acuteness.

But while the two were speculating, Herbert, with his field glass to his eye, began sweeping every part of the visible horizon. He had no special object in doing this, but thought he might perceive other horsemen, who had nothing to do with their friends or enemies.

Suddenly he startled Nick by an exclamation.

“Follow the direction of my finger!” he said, “and tell me what you see.”

He pointed almost north, that is in a line parallel with the ridge which they were crossing; and, without the aid of the field glass, Nick observed a second column of smoke of precisely the same appearance as that produced by Baker Lattin at the foot of the hills.

Apparently it was a mile distant, its location being at one corner of a right-angled triangle, with the horse thieves and Texans at the other two respective corners. The course of the ridge shut Strubell and Lattin from the sight of those that were managing the second fire. The parties could not have caught the first mutual glimpse, and yet nothing was more reasonable to believe than that they were telegraphing important messages back and forth to each other.

CHAPTER XIII.

AN UNEXPECTED SIGNAL

THE mystery to the lads was deeper than ever. Matters were inexplainable before, and now they were still more involved.

“It strikes me,” said Herbert, “that the best course for us is to stay where we are and watch things.”

“Nothing would suit me better, and yet it would be hardly right, after our promise to Strubell and Lattin. They asked us to ride forward to the spring, and we promised to do so. If we stay here we break our word. True, we would be sure to pick up some interesting information, but it would be of a kind that they don’t want us to have, at least for the present.”

“You are right, as you always are,” replied Herbert; “it did not occur to me in that light; let us go on.”

Walking back to where their ponies were waiting, they remounted and started forward in the same order as before. Both were busy with their thoughts, and filled with a disquiet which disturbed them a good deal. They would have been glad to drive away the misgivings, but could not. The conviction was strong on each that a grave crisis was at hand, and that, before the setting sun showed itself again, every member of the party was likely to become involved in greater peril than they had faced since their union.

The trail continued descending at the moderate rate of its ascent, and, at the point named by the Texans, it turned sharply northward, following a course parallel to the ridge and at its base.

They expected to travel about a half mile over the new course, which they found freer from bowlders and obstructions than before. The horses moved with a brisker pace, as if they knew camp was not far off, and a long and grateful rest was at hand.

At the moment of emerging from the hills, and reaching the lower level, the sun dipped below the horizon and twilight began. Far to the westward stretched the broad prairie, with the faint blue line of a distant chain of mountains, resting like a cloud against the clear sky beyond.

The sweep of the field glass failed to reveal any living creature. It seemed to the youths as if they were entering upon a vast solitude, where they were the only intruders. They pushed along the path in silence, the sounds of their animals’ hoofs being all that broke the solemn stillness. Nick turned his head now and then, and, looking over the backs of the pack horses, saw that Herbert was more thoughtful than usual. His face wore a grave expression, which proved that the situation oppressed him.

“But,” added Nick to himself, “suppose his suspicions are right, what harm can result? If Strubell and Lattin are friends of Rickard, and have an understanding with him, in what way can it affect us? Mr. Lord may be deceived into believing they are honest, but we have nothing to fear. None of them has ill designs against us, and, whatever the relations of the parties, our friends would never permit the outlaws to molest us.”

Nick might have persuaded himself fully to this faith, but for the remembrance of the scene the night before. He could not forget the threat of Rickard as he walked off in the gloom, nor would that bad man forgive the indignity put upon him by a boy in the presence of a couple of acquaintances. Such characters are as revengeful as American Indians, and he would lose no opportunity of paying him therefor. It is a sad fact that about half the world are engaged in “getting even” with the other half, for fancied wrongs received at their hands.

Nick had not ridden far when he abruptly checked his pony and called to Herbert:

“Halloo! here’s something we didn’t bargain for.”

“What’s that?” asked the surprised Herbert.

“Come forward and see.”

The elder was about to dismount, when he perceived that, by crowding, he could force Jill alongside of his friend. He did so, and discovered that which had checked the procession.

The trail which they had been following divided, one branch turning to the right and the other to the left. The divergence was so slight, that there could not be much space between the two at a considerable distance beyond, unless the angle increased.

“It’s singular that neither Strubell nor Lattin said anything about this,” remarked Nick, looking inquiringly at Herbert, who was following the path with his eye.

“I don’t understand that any more than I understand the other matters we have been talking about. How are we going to tell which is the right course?”

It will be remembered that the youths had been riding northward, along the base of the ridge, where the ground was comparatively level; but for some distance the trail turned slightly in among the hills, compelling a moderate descent, and a more winding course, through and around the bowlders and obstructions. At the point where Nick had reined up his pony this trend became more pronounced, while the path on the left led down toward the foot of the hills.

The difficulty lay in the fact that each was marked with equal distinctness, and it was, therefore, beyond their power to decide with certainty which was the right one to follow. This was proven when Nick gave it as his belief that the one on the right was the main trail, while Herbert was equally positive that the reverse was the case; how, therefore, was the question to be settled?

“There’s one thing clear to me,” said Nick, seeing how matters stood; “Strubell and Lattin are certain that we are not placing ourselves in any danger by leaving them behind and riding on alone; for we agree that the movement was meant for our good. We haven’t caught the first sight of man or animal, so we need not be troubled. Now, I will follow the upper path, which I think is the right one, while you take the lower. That will be better than for each of us to take the wrong course, and then come back to travel the same distance along the right one.”

“But how will we manage it?” asked Herbert, who was not well pleased with the proposal, despite his confidence in Nick’s judgment.

“In the first place, we shall not be far apart after going a long way, unless there is a more abrupt divergence than we see here. If I reach the spring, as I feel sure I shall, I will call to you and you can join me.”

“By riding back here to this fork – what will I gain by that?”

“I think you can save considerable distance by riding across the intervening ground, though, if that can’t be done, and you have to double on your own trail, it will be but one, instead of two, who has to do it. If we keep together, and both go wrong, we will have double work, while by dividing, one is as sure to be right as the other is to go astray; consequently half the labor will be saved.”

“What about the pack horses?”

“I guess they would better go with me.”

Herbert laughed.

“That shows your faith in your own theory, but I am willing, though just as sure as you, that you are putting extra duty on the animals.”

“When I strike the spring,” continued Nick, with a smile, “I will give a whistle, which you will understand as a call for you, and you can cut across lots or gallop back to this point and follow after me.”

“At any rate,” added Herbert, “I don’t see that the matter is very important, for we shall not be separated long. I will whistle to you when I reach the spring. Since I have only Jill, I will press on faster than you, and save you extra work.”

With this laughing parting, each set out to verify his own theory, confident that they would soon come together again.

Nick was inclined to force his pony into a gallop, for the trail was so free from obstructions that this could have been easily done, but he was afraid it would disorganize the pack horses. Their loads were not heavy and were generally fixed so securely in place that they could gallop whenever required, without risk to the property; but the goods had been hastily adjusted, when on the other side of the ridge, and were likely to become disarranged, for the animals were so trained to follow their leader that when he increased his pace they were quite sure to do the same.

“I knew I was right!” exclaimed Nick, with a laugh, after riding a fourth of a mile, as he came upon a broad, deep, crystalline spring, which warranted all the praise the Texans had bestowed on it; “I don’t see why Herbert was so positive; I’ve got him this time, and he’ll have to own up.”

As agreed upon, he placed the tip of his finger and thumb against his tongue to emit the signal; but, before he could do so, the very same call reached him from the foot of the hills. Herbert had summoned him to retrace his steps to the fork and join him!

“What under the sun can that mean?” asked the amazed Nick, holding his thumb and finger in front of his mouth, undecided what to do.

CHAPTER XIV.

A STRANGE ABSENCE

NICK RIBSAM might well be puzzled. Just ahead and on his right was the most enchanting natural spring of water that he had ever beheld. It was circular in shape, fully two yards in diameter and ten or twelve inches deep in the middle. From several places on the bottom the water bubbled up in a way that tumbled the sand in miniature fountains, which hid the current flinging the particles upward from below.

This basin was so clear that at first sight one was doubtful whether there was any water there at all; but the bubbling sand and the vigorous stream flowing away and across the trail, and losing itself among the rocks and vegetation, removed all question on that point.

The spring was partly shaded by a black bowlder leaning so far over that it seemed on the point of tumbling in, while the scene in the immediate vicinity was rougher than any through which they had passed since crossing the ridge.

Domestic as well as wild animals are quick to discern the presence of water, and Nick had seen proof in the actions of Jack that he knew he was near the spring, some time before he himself knew it. The three were so pleased that they hastened their pace, and crowded their noses into the cool element, of which they drank with an enjoyment beyond description.

The youth meant to have a deep refreshing draught himself, but he had not the heart to check the ponies. He could wait better than they; they were not unclean animals, and the spring would quickly free itself of all traces of the contact with their silken noses.

But while Jack was stretching his head downward and standing with one fore leg bent at the knee, the better to reach the water, his rider prepared to give the call for Herbert to join him, when he was taken all aback by catching precisely the same signal from his friend.

There could be no mistake about it: he had heard it too often to confound it with any other sound.

He had noticed, while riding along the trail, that the divergence became more pronounced, thus separating him from Herbert by a greater distance than he had anticipated. As nearly as he could judge from the whistle, his friend was nearly, if not quite an eighth of a mile away, and between them the slope was so filled with rocks, bowlders, and stunted vegetation that travelling with a horse was out of the question. A trained mountaineer would find the task anything but an easy one. Herbert, therefore, must turn squarely about, and ride back to the fork in the trail, thus travelling double the distance made by Nick and the pack horses.

A moment’s reflection convinced the latter that Herbert had made a natural mistake. The stream, winding its way in that direction, probably formed a pool near the other part, so large and clear and beautiful that the youth mistook it for the spring itself.

“But he will see his error,” reflected Nick, sending out the ringing blast by which he had summoned his friend many a time; “he doesn’t like to own up, but, when he looks upon this, he can’t help himself.”

Nick was convinced that there were few such natural springs in that section of Texas, though similar ones are found in plenty further east and among some of the mountainous portions.

The horses having had their fill, stepped back, and Nick began his preparations for spending the night. Everything was taken from the backs and heads of the animals and placed in a pile on the ground near at hand, while they were left to crop the grass, which was green and quite luxuriant in the vicinity of the stream.

By the time everything was complete, darkness had come. The animals were not tethered, for there was little to be feared of their running away, unless interfered with by outsiders, of which no one dreamed.