The Mountain Divide Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  Before daybreak the scout roused his companion, and, after breakfastwith the three Sioux, who, according to Bob, were still eating supper,the two hunters left their chance companions in the canyon, roderapidly south, and, with their antelope haunches as trophies, reachedCasement's camp about ten o'clock.

  Stanley, who was conferring with Casement, came out of the tentgreatly amazed at his scout's venturing so far on a hunt as to exposehimself and his companion to danger.

  "We were safe every minute, colonel," declared Scott.

  "Safe?" echoed Stanley incredulously. "No man is safe, Bob, a milefrom the track-layers. The Sioux killed and scalped one of ourengineers not ten miles from here, when we were running this very linelast winter."

  "This lad," nodded Scott, "is as good a shot as I am. He brought downthe first antelope. We get along with the Sioux all right, too, don'twe, Bucks?" he demanded, appealing to his fellow-hunter. "We atesupper with them last night," he added to mystify his listeners, "andcamped with Iron Hand."

  Even General Casement stared at this and waited to hear Scott tellStanley the story of their night's adventure. "However, colonel,"concluded Scott, "there is a war party of Cheyennes near here. It is agood time to be careful."

  "All right, Bob," retorted Stanley, looking at his scout keenly,though no one could be angry at Scott long. "You set the example."

  The words were hardly out of his mouth when an operator came runningdown the track from the telegraph tent with a message for GeneralCasement. It contained word from the operator at Peace River thatsection men reported a war party of Indians, crossing the railroadnear Feather Creek, had attacked an emigrant party camped there.

  In an instant the whole construction camp had the news and the workwas thrown into confusion. Feather Creek was twenty miles away. Ordersflew fast. A special train was made up, and Stanley taking command,with Casement to aid, made ready instantly to leave for the scene ofthe disaster.

  The men running from the grade fell into line like veteran soldiers.Indeed, most of them had seen service in the war just closed and thesmell of powder was no novelty. Bob Scott turned the venison over toOliver and loaded his horse in the car with those of the cavalrymen.Under Stanley's orders he himself rode as pilot in the cab with theengine crew. Bucks also reported to Stanley, and within twenty minutesthe relief train carrying two hundred men was plunging down the longhill toward Feather Creek. Heads were craned out of the car windows,and in rounding every curve Bucks, with the scout Leon Sublette,sitting greatly wrought up behind Stanley and Casement, expectedmomentarily to see Cheyenne war bonnets spring up out of the stuntedcedars that lined the hills along the right of way.

  But not a sign could be seen of any living thing. The train reachedFeather Creek, and slowly crossed the bridge before Scott signalledthe engineman to stop. His eye had detected the scene of the fight,and the ground beyond--a low cut--was favorable for getting the mensafely out of the cars.

  As the engine slowed, a little scene of desolation beside the right ofway met Bucks's eye, and he caught sight of the ghastly battle-field.A frightened section crew emerged from the wild-plum thickets alongthe creek bottom, as the cavalrymen, followed by Casement's armed men,poured out of the three cars. Stanley with his scouts led the way tothe emigrant camp, where the fight had taken place. The wagons hadbeen burned, the horses run off, and the three unfortunate menbutchered.

  Bucks experienced a shock when Scott came upon the three dead menwhose mutilated bodies had been dragged from the scene by the sectionmen and who lay with covered faces side by side under a littleplum-tree, fragrant with blossoms and alive with the hum of bees. Thesunshine and the beauty of the spot contrasted strangely with therevolting spectacle upon the grass.

  Stanley gave the orders by which the bodies were conveyed to the trainand with the scouts and cavalrymen reconnoitering the surroundingcountry, Casement's men lay on their arms in the shade of the cut.Dancing rigged a pony instrument to the telegraph wires, which had notbeen disturbed, and Bucks transmitted messages to Fort Kearneyadvising the commanding officer of the murders and adding afterwardthe report of Scott and Sublette as to the direction the marauders hadtaken in flight.

  "Who were the beasts, Bob, that could treat men like that?" demandedBucks in an angry undertone, when he had clicked the messages over thewires.

  "Bad Indians," answered Scott sententiously. "You have that kind ofwhite men, don't you? These fellows are probably Turkey Leg's thievingCheyennes. We shall hear more of them."

  In the meantime the scouts and the cavalry detail rode out againtrying to unmask the Cheyennes, but without success. It was a weekbefore they were even heard of, and after an all-day attempt to dosomething, the train backed up to camp and work was resumed as ifnothing had happened.

  After waiting a few days, Stanley, always restive under idleness,determined to push on across the Sweet Grass country with horses, tolearn how the timber cutters on the river were faring with theirslender military guard. The party, consisting of the detail of ten menand the two scouts and Bucks, started one morning at sunrise and madetheir way without molestation into the little-known mountain rangecalled then, as far south as Colorado, the Black Hills.

  Stanley explained to Bucks during the morning how the chiefengineering difficulty of the whole transcontinental line confrontedthe engineers right where they were now riding. Here the mountainswere thrown abruptly above the plain to a great height and thelocating engineers were still at their wits' ends to know how toclimb the tremendous ascent with practicable grades. Stanley becameso interested in studying the country during the day, as thedifficulties of the problem presented themselves afresh to him, thatthe party made slow progress. Camp was pitched early in the afternoonunder a ridge that offered some natural features for defence. Here thecavalrymen were left, and Stanley, taking Scott, started out aftersome venison for supper. Bucks stood by, looking eager as the two madeready for the hunt.

  "Come along if you like," said Stanley at length. "You won't be happy,Bucks, till you get lost somewhere in this country."

  Sublette lent Bucks a rifle, and the three men set out together,riding rapidly into the rough hills to the northwest. Scott coveredthe ground fast, but he searched in vain for sign of antelope."Indians have been all over this divide," he announced after much hardriding and a failure to find any game. "It doesn't look like venisonfor supper to-night, colonel. Stop!" he added suddenly.

  His companions, surprised by the tone of the last word, halted.Leaning over his pony's neck the scout was reading the rocky soil. Hedismounted, and walking on, leading his horse, he inspected, verycarefully, the ground toward a dry creek bed opening to the east.

  He was gone perhaps five minutes. "Colonel," he said, smilingreassuringly, when he returned, "this is no place for us."

  "Indians," said Stanley tersely.

  "Cheyennes. Back to camp."

  "Down the creek?" suggested Stanley.

  "The bottom is alive with Indians."

  "Up then, Bob?"

  "Their camp is just above the bend. They have spotted our trail, too,somehow. It may be they are riding easy to close in on us," smiledScott, while Bucks's hair began to pull. "Our way out is over thisdivide." He indicated the rough country east of the creek as hespoke.

  "Divide!" exclaimed Stanley, looking up at the practically sheer wallsof rock that hedged the course of the creek. "We can't climb thosehills, if we never get out."

  "They're not quite so bad as they look. Anyway, colonel, we've gotto."

  "They can pick us off our horses like monkeys all the way up!"

  "It's a chance for our scalps, colonel. And it will be as hard ridingfor them as it is for us."

  Stanley looked at Bucks with perplexity. "This boy!"

  "I can make it, Colonel Stanley," exclaimed Bucks, who felt he mustsay something.

  Stanley still hesitated.

  "We've no time to lose," smiled Scott significantly.

  "Then go ahead, Bob." />
  They had half a mile of comparatively level ground to cross beforethey began their climb, and this strip they rode very hard. When theyreached the hills, Scott headed for a forbidding-looking canyon andurged his horse without ceasing through the rocky wash that strewedits floor. Stanley, with an excellent mount, could have kept well up,but he had put Bucks ahead of him in the safe place of the littleprocession, and the boy had difficulty in keeping within call oftheir active leader. The minute they were out of sight of the creekbottoms, Scott, choosing an apparently unscalable ascent, urged hishorse up one of the canyon walls and the three were soon climbing inorder.

  Happily, Bucks's scrub horse gave a better account of himself inclimbing than he had done in covering better ground. As their horsesstumbled hurriedly along the narrow ledges, they made noise enough towake the Indian dead and the loose rock tumbled with sinister echoesdown the canyon wall. But progress was made, and the white men feltonly anxious lest pursuit should catch them exposed on the uncoveredheight up which they were fast clambering.

  Secure in their escape, the three were nearing the coveted top when ayell echoed through the canyon from below. There was no mistaking sucha yell. Bucks, who had never heard anything so ferocious, had no needto be told what it was--it, so to say, introduced itself. And it wasanswered by another yell, more formidable still, and again by achorus of yells. Then it seemed to Bucks's unaccustomed ears as if athousand lusty throats were opened, and scared rigid he looked behindhim and saw the canyon below alive with warriors.

  They were riding helter-skelter to reach a range where they could pickthe fugitives off the crest of the canyon side. Within a minute,almost, their rifles were cracking. Scott had already reached a pointof concealment, and above the heads of Bucks and Stanley fired hisrifle in answer. An Indian brave, riding furiously to a rock thatwould have commanded Stanley and Bucks as they urged their horses on,started in his saddle as Scott fired and clutched his side instantlywith his rifle hand. His pony bolted as the half-hitch of the rawhidethong on its lower jaw was loosened and the rider, toppling, fellheavily backward to the ground. The riderless horse dashed on. Theyelling Indians had had their blunt warning and now scurried forcover. The interval, short as it was, gave Bucks and Stanley achance.

  Spurring relentlessly and crouching low on their horses' necks, theymade a dash across the exposed wall of rock near the top, that laybetween them and safety. A renewed yell echoed the rage and chagrin oftheir pursuers, and a quick fire of scattering shots followed theirrapid flight, but the Indians were confused, and Bucks, followed byhis soldier champion, flung himself from his saddle in the clump ofcedars behind which Scott, safely hidden, was reloading his rifle.Choosing his opportunity carefully, Stanley fired at once at anexposed brave and succeeded in disabling him. Bucks was forbidden toshoot and told to hold his rifle, if it were needed, in readiness forhis companions. With the bullets cutting the twigs above their heads,Stanley and Scott held a council of war. Scott insisted on remainingbehind to check their pursuers where they were, while the two with himrode on to safety.

  "I can hold this bunch, colonel," declared Scott briefly. "There maynot be a second chance as good. Get on with the boy before anotherparty cuts you off. They can cross below us and save two or threemiles. Get away."

  "But how will you get away?" demanded Bucks.

  Stanley laughed. "Never mind Bob. He could crawl through a Cheyennevillage with a camp-fire on his back. It's what to do with you, Bucks,that bothers us."

  "Just you get on, colonel," urged Bob. "I'll manage all right. Leaveyour horse," he added, turning to Bucks, "and you take mine."

  Bucks protested and refused to leave Scott with an inferior mount, buthis protests were of no avail. He was curtly directed by Stanley to doas he was told, and unwillingly he turned his horse over to Scott andtook the scout's better steed. Scott added hurried and explicitdirections to Stanley as to the course to follow back to camp, andwithout loss of time Stanley and Bucks crouching behind friendly rocksled their horses up the inner canyon wall and, remounting at the top,galloped hurriedly down a long ridge.

  At intervals, shots from the Indians reached their ears, andlong-drawn yells, followed by the sharper crack of Scott's rifle,echoed from the west as the scout held the wall against the enemy.Bucks did not understand the real danger that the scout feared forhis party. It was that other parties of the marauding Cheyennes might,by following the creek, gain the divide in time to cut off therailroad men from their line of escape. The sounds of the stubborncontest behind them died away as their straining horses gradually putmiles between them and the enemy. The fugitives had reached the summitof the hills and with a feeling of safety were easing their pace whenBucks discerned, almost directly ahead of them, dark objects movingslowly along the foot of a wooded hill. The two men halted.