"Five thousand pilgrims! Did you hear that? All coming along behind!" exclaimed Terry, as he and Harry1 "hooked" the now rested Duke and Jenny to the cart. "These are new ones. He didn't say anything about the other trails."
"We heard how they were, before we left," reminded Harry. "And we saw a right smart smattering of folks at Manhattan, remember. Oh, I don't think we'll be lonesome."
"All you've got to do now is to follow the stage tracks," directed the station agent. "You'll come to stations every so often. But you'd best keep your water keg filled. There's no knowin' what'll happen on these plains."
"Yes, sir," concurred3 his helper. "And keep your weather eye peeled for Injuns. Don't let 'em bamboozle4 you or if they don't take your scalps they'll steal you blind. When Injuns come in, hang tight to your scatter-gun."
"Haven't seen any, so far," remarked Harry.
"No; but you can't tell. In my opinion that buff'lo stampede was caused by Injuns—like as not that was why the buff'lo drifted down on you in the fust place. And if you hadn't got out when you did, in a hurry, you'd have had more trouble, plenty."
The stages had long since disappeared in the west, but the tracks were plain. Tomorrow there would be other stages, and the next day others, and so on, had said the station men; and before the Limited had even sighted the mountains some of these same stages would be met coming back. That made travel at a walk seem rather slow, especially when gold was waiting only to be found.
A second pair of stages passed them, with a swirl5 of dust and a cheer, late the next afternoon, but they found them spending the night at Station Thirteen, on the bank of another creek6. Here they also camped.
"Twenty-five miles again," sighed Harry, satisfied. "We'll get there."
Duke and Jenny had indeed footed sturdily. The hurrying stages seemed to be an inspiration to them. They felt that they, also, were now going somewhere.
The coaches had been full. There were two women, who slept in the station tent. The men passengers slept on the ground, under a canopy7 of gunny sacking stretched over stakes. For their own comfort the station employees were digging a cave in the side of an arroyo8 or dry wash, where they might house themselves and cook, in bad weather. Could fight off the Indians from it, too, they said.
The talk among the passengers was mainly of buffalo9, Indians and the other sights along the trail. The Indians had been bothering the timid pilgrims considerably10, with begging and stealing, but had not bothered the stages.
"We'll take no chances, though," declared the stage-driver. "Never let an Injun think you're afraid of him—that's the secret. Once start to give in, and you're lost. Most of these pilgrims never've had experience with the plains Injuns. They try to please 'em and buy their good-will by giving 'em something for nothing, and the Injuns don't understand. Giving something for nothing isn't Injun way. It amounts to being afraid. Why, we passed at least half a dozen outfits12 who'd been so good to the Injuns that they didn't have a critter left—every head driven off, some in broad daylight, and there the wagons13 were sitting. One wagon14 had said at first 'Pike's Peak or Bust,' and now it said, 'Busted15, by Thunder!'"
"Must have been Kiowas or Cheyennes. The 'Rapahoes aren't ranging so far east, are they?" suggested the station agent.
"Oh, they're all ranging everywhere, now, following the buffalo and begging from the pilgrims," quoth the driver. "Kiowas, Cheyennes and 'Rapahoes—they're in cahoots. But I hear tell that the main band of the 'Rapahoes under old Little Raven16 are sticking 'round Cherry Creek, camped there on their winter grounds, along with the whites, instead of chasing the buffalo. It's easier."
The Pike's Peak Limited pulled out early, bent17 on making time and not be overtaken by those five thousand rivals who were still coming. In about an hour and a half the stages passed at a gallop18, while the drivers saluted19 with a flourish of whips. And the Limited proceeded to plod20 after.
Buffalo had become quite abundant. They were constantly in sight—large bunches and small; but Duke seemed to have had his fill of rampaging, and paid little attention to his kin-people. However, as Harry remarked, where there were buffalo, there likely were Indians.
"If any do come in on us," he said, "I'll grab the gun and you tend to Jenny. If there's one thing a mule21 hates worse than buffalo, it's Injun—and Jenny's powerful sensitive, poor thing."
"Maybe we ought to mount guard tonight," proposed Terry. "I'll sit up and then you sit up." Mounting guard for fear of Indian attack would be another fine story to tell to George Stanton.
"Not yet," decided22 Harry. "We'll stake Jenny in close, and she's awake all night anyway. At least, with her grunts23 and groans24 she sounds like it."
"I suppose Shep would make a racket, too."
"W-well," mused25 Harry, "I believe I'd rather trust to Jenny's ears and nose than to Shep's—there's more of them."
The buffalo before and on either side grazed peacefully; but about three o'clock that afternoon a commotion26 was evident behind. The buffalo were scampering27, and afar on the trail appeared a little cloud of dust.
"Can't be another stage already, can it?" questioned Harry.
"Injuns!" exclaimed Terry. "But they wouldn't be raising dust, would they? Or maybe they're chasing a stage!"
Harry paled slightly.
"We'll soon see. But they won't get this outfit11 without a heap of trouble. We're going through to the diggin's."
However, it wasn't a stage. It was a light open wagon, drawn28 by two horses at a furious pace. Anybody might have thought that the horses were running away, except for the fact that a man on the seat was using the whip.
"Great snakes!" ejaculated Harry. "We'll have to clear the track. Gee29, Duke! Jenny! Gee! Gee-up! Whoa-oa!"
He turned out just in time. The on-comers were in a tearing hurry. The horses, red-nostriled, staring-eyed, lathered30 and dust-caked, looked like chariot racers in full career—two men were on the seat, one driving, the other plying31 the whip, and both constantly gazing backward. They wore visored caps and belted blouses and knee trousers—revolvers, knives, field-glasses; up and down in the wagon jolted32 a mass of camp stuff, and guns, and provisions. This much Terry saw during the last minute in which the equipage arrived, dashed half-way past, and there was pulled short with a suddenness which set the two horses on their haunches.
"Injuns!" cried the two men, over their shoulders. "Cut loose for your lives!"
One was a blond, pinky-skinned man, the other was not so fair; but the faces of both were faded to a dead, dusty white by fear. Their eyes were curiously33 poppy.
"Where? How many?" demanded Harry and Terry, in the same breath.
"Chasing us! Five hundred of 'em! Raiding the stage line! Plundering34 the stations! Killing35 the emigrants37! Burning the settlements! Cut loose! Ride for your lives!" answered the two men, in a sort of duet.
"Five hundred are quite a parcel to be chasing two men," drawled Harry. "Where'll we ride to, and how?" Mighty38 cool Harry was, in the midst of alarm, thought Terry. "All right," continued Harry, briskly. "One of us'll get on this mule and you can take the other in your wagon and——"
"No, no! No room!" they protested. "We've a load. We can't wait. Cut loose. You'll catch us. Ride for your lives. How far to the next station?"
"Gid-dap!" Down swished the lash39, forward sprang the horses. "There they come!" yelled both men. "We're all dead——" and away they tore again, leaning forward on the seat, shaking the lines and plying the whip, and constantly looking back up the trail.
"Jiminy!" gasped40 Terry. "They said five hundred. What are we to do? We can't fight off as many as that. You—you can have Jenny," and he choked. "I'll ride Duke. Hurry!"
But Harry appeared to be in no especial hurry. He scratched his long nose reflectively, and surveyed the trail behind.
"Don't see 'em, do you?" he invited. "'Five hundred of them'—'raiding the stage line'—'plundering the stations'—'killing the emigrants'—'burning the settlements'!" He was mimicking41 the two fugitives42. "Five hundred fiddlesticks! That's too many Indians at one time. Besides, there aren't any settlements 'round here to burn, except at the mountains, and those two lunatics haven't been to the mountains yet. And if we 'cut loose' and 'rode for our lives,' where'd we ride to? Might better save our strength and dig a hole."
"Don't you believe them, then?"
"No. You can't believe cowards. I don't blame them any for running away from five hundred Indians, but it was right mean to run away from us. So I sized up that a husky outfit who'd leave a lame43 man and a boy to escape on a mule and a buffalo while they went ahead with a good team and wagon couldn't be depended on in talk or action either. Why, they had guns enough there to fight a week! Guess they were on a hunting trip across, and are nervous. G'lang, Duke! Jenny! Let's keep going."
"There are Indians coming, just the same," presently informed Terry, who could not help but peep behind.
"Two—three—five," pronounced Harry. "They're the five hundred whittled44 down to fact. We needn't pay any attention to the four hundred and ninety-five others yet. You watch Jenny, and Shep and I'll watch these fellows."
The Indians, five of them, were rapidly approaching at a lope, down the stage trail. When they were within two hundred yards Harry, uttering a sudden "Whoa!" fell back to the rear of the wagon and, grabbing the shot-gun, faced about, and raised his hand as sign for them to stay their distance. They slackened in a jiffy, but one rode ahead, to talk.
They were armed with bows and lances; half clothed in blankets and moccasins; appeared very dirty but seemed good-natured. The old fellow who rode ahead was a stout45, grinning Indian—chief, evidently, by the feather in his greasy46 hair.
"How?" he grunted47, from his ambling48 spotted49 pony50. "No shoot. 'Rapaho. No hurt um white man. Chase um. Heap fun. See wagon men? Heap fun."
"Keep back," warned Harry, over the barrel of the shot-gun. "No fun here. We don't run."
"There's Thunder Horse, Harry!" hissed51 Terry, who, guarding the team, had an eye also upon the Indians.
The stout spokesman on the spotted pony was really quite good-looking; three of the others were not much worse; but the fifth in the squad53 was entirely54 different—his hair was cut short on the one side and left long on the other, instead of being in two braids, and his naturally ugly face was pitted with small-pox scars. His blanket was the dirtiest of all the blankets, his features the greasiest55, his mouth the coarsest; and now as he also tried to smile, his blood-shot eyes glared fiercely.
Thunder Horse, the Kiowa, he was, again: the outlaw56 Indian whom Terry had first encountered among the Delawares on the emigrant36 trail into Kansas, a year ago, and who had been an enemy ever since. He was a drunken rascal57, was Thunder Horse; nothing seemed too mean for him to try. He even had stolen George and Virgie Stanton; but Terry had helped them to get away.
Terry recognized Thunder Horse—and Thunder Horse evidently had recognized Terry, and Shep, too. Terry had pelted58 him with eggs, and Shep had nipped him in the calf59. So Thunder Horse smiled at Harry and scowled60 at Terry and Shep.
"Which one?" asked Harry, aside. "The ugly one?"
"Yes. Look out for him. You'd better."
"All good. Like um white boy. White boy give 'Rapaho shoog, coff," wheedled61 the chief, advancing; and now another of the Arapahoes rode forward.
"Him Little Raven; big chief," he said, speaking English very clearly. "Me Left Hand. Little Raven talk not much English. I talk for him. Where you going?"
"To the mines, of course."
"You see two men in wagon?"
"Yes."
"We no harm them. They run, then we yell and they run faster. Little Raven want to ask if you give him a little sugar and coffee."
"Haven't any to spare."
"Give him a little sugar, little coffee, little bread, and mebbe he show you where heap gold in the mountains."
"No, no," refused Harry. "Stand back, all of you," for the other Indians were edging toward the wagon, from either side. Jenny smelled them, and had grown restive—-trembled, snorted, and Shep maintained a constant growling62 from underneath63 the wagon.
"All right." And Left Hand spoke52 gutturally for the information of Little Raven, who nodded. "Brave boys. Not foolish and run. Good-bye."
Little Raven insisted on shaking hands with Harry and with Terry. "G'bye," he grunted. "Heap boy. No run," when suddenly Terry cried, past him, to a figure on horseback:
"Get out o' there!"
During the leave-taking Thunder Horse had sidled in with the others, and pressing along the wagon, behind Harry (who had considerable to watch with one pair of eyes and one gun), was stealthily thrusting his arm in under the edge of the canvas hood64.
Harry turned hastily—but there was a snarl66, a whoop67, and back careened Thunder Horse, on his pony, with Shep hanging to his moccasin. The moccasin and the foot within it, extending below the cart, and so convenient, had been too much for Shep. Besides, their owner was up to mischief68! Shep knew him of old.
Thunder Horse kicked vigorously—and while the other Indians laughed and shouted, and Shep held hard, shaking and worrying, he jerked his knife from somewhere—flung himself low and stabbed at his black shaggy tormentor69.
"Shep!" called Terry, alarmed. "Quit it! Here!"
With a final dodge70, Shep tore the moccasin loose and carried it under the cart. Glaring a moment at the cart, at Terry, at Harry, Thunder Horse, scowling71 blackly, rode on. The four Arapahoes, laughing among themselves, followed. The way with which Shep had astonished Thunder Horse amused them greatly.
The next noon, when the Pike's Peak Limited passed the stage station, the agent hailed with the question:
"Say! Was it your dog that bit that Kiowa in the foot?"
"Yes. He'd tried to steal from the cart."
"Well, served him right. 'Twasn't much of a bite, but he had a powerful sore foot when he and those 'Rapahoes went out this mornin'. They camped here all night."
"Teeth scurcely broke the skin; but he's been so pizened with whiskey that any least scratch on him's liable to make a bad sore," added the agent's helper.
"Did two men with a team and a wagon get here in a hurry, yesterday evening?" asked Harry. "Ahead of the Indians?"
"Yes, sir!" laughed the agent. "Those hunter greenhorns, you mean, flying from a massacre72? We calmed 'em down, let 'em hide in the tent, and told 'em if they'd stay behind the massacre it wouldn't catch 'em. So they waited until the massacre left, then they left."
For the next week and more the Pike's Peak Limited kept hearing, from station to station, of Thunder Horse and his sore foot. His foot had swollen73, his leg had swollen to the knee, it had swollen above the knee, it was still swelling—and he was very surly, and evidently in much pain, and drunk whenever he could obtain any liquor.
The hunters' wagon disappeared, between stations, as if on a short-cut to the Republican; and soon thereafter the Chief Little Raven squad, including the then much distressed74 Thunder Horse (whose leg, said the last agent, ought to be cut off), disappeared also.
The Pike's Peak Limited plodded75 along. At some time every day a stage or two stages from Leavenworth on the Missouri River passed, usually full, but occasionally half empty. The Valley of the Republican was close before, and behind was pressing nearer the van of that great procession.
"They're beginning to raise a dust," remarked Harry, gazing back.
"Yes; but you can see a dust ahead, too," said Terry. "Hope we get there first."
That night the camp-fires of the leading outfits on the trail behind were plainly visible, winking76 through the darkness; and down in the broad Republican Valley scattered77 other camp-fires were winking.
It was almost noon when, just beating a faster-stepping team trying to overtake, the Pike's Peak Limited, first pilgrim outfit through by the new stage route, filed into the well-trodden, dusty trail made now by stage and gold-seekers combined up the wide valley of the Republican.
"Hee-haw!" exulted79 Jenny; but Duke the half-buffalo only flirted80 his little tail at sight of the new company.
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1
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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concurred
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| 同意（concur的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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bamboozle
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| v.欺骗，隐瞒 | |
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swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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arroyo
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| n.干涸的河床，小河 | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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outfits
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| n.全套装备( outfit的名词复数 )；一套服装；集体；组织v.装备，配置设备，供给服装( outfit的第三人称单数 ) | |
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wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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busted
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| adj. 破产了的，失败了的，被降级的，被逮捕的，被抓到的 动词bust的过去式和过去分词 | |
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raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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plod
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| v.沉重缓慢地走，孜孜地工作 | |
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mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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scampering
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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lathered
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| v.（指肥皂）形成泡沫( lather的过去式和过去分词 )；用皂沫覆盖；狠狠地打 | |
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plying
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的现在分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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plundering
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的现在分词 ) | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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emigrant
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| adj.移居的，移民的；n.移居外国的人，移民 | |
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emigrants
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| n.（从本国移往他国的）移民( emigrant的名词复数 ) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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mimicking
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| v.（尤指为了逗乐而）模仿( mimic的现在分词 )；酷似 | |
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fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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whittled
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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ambling
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的现在分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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51
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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53
squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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greasiest
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| adj.脂肪的( greasy的最高级 )；（人或其行为）圆滑的；油腻的；（指人、举止）谄媚的 | |
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outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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pelted
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| （连续地）投掷( pelt的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续抨击； 攻击； 剥去…的皮 | |
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calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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60
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wheedled
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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65
yelped
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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67
whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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68
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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tormentor
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| n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
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70
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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71
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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72
massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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76
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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enjoined
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| v.命令( enjoin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flirted
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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