Chapter 54 - The White Chief by Mayne Reid
The man-hunters had not long to wait. They had anticipated this. There was a moon which they had also expected. It was a bright moon at intervals, and then obscured—for minutes at a time—by the passage of dark clouds over the canopy.
There was no wind, however, and the air was perfectly still. The slightest noise could have been heard for a long distance in the atmosphere of that elevated region—so pure and light that it vibrated afar with the slightest concussion.
Sounds were heard, but they were not made by either the dogs or horses of the hunters—well-trained to silence—nor by the hunters themselves. Both lay stretched in silence; or if they spoke, it was only in whispers and low mutterings.
The sounds were those of nature—such as it exists in that wild region. The “snort” of the grizzly bear from the rocky ledge—the howling bark of the coyote—the “hoo-hoop” of the burrowing owl, and the shrill periodical cries of the bull-bat and goatsucker. For a while these were the only sounds that fell upon the ears of the ambushed hunters.
Half-an-hour elapsed, and during all that time never permitted their eyes or ears to rest for a moment. They gazed up the ravine, and at intervals glanced outwards upon the plain. There was a probability that their victim might be abroad—even in the day—and with such men no probability was allowed to pass without examination. Should it prove to be so, and he were to return at that time, it would frustrate the plan they had arranged. But for such a contingency the mulatto had conceived another—that was, to steal during the night as near the cave as possible—within rifle-shot if he could—wait until the güero should make his appearance in the morning, and wing him with a bullet from his rifle—in the use of which weapon the yellow hunter was well skilled. To shoot the horse was another design. The horse once killed or crippled, the cibolero would be captured to a certainty; and both had made up their minds, in case a good opportunity offered, to despatch the noble animal.
These men knew a certain plan by which their victim could be killed or captured—that is, supposing they had been certain he was in the cave—a plan which could scarce have failed. But yet, for reasons of their own, they would not adopt it.
It would have been simple enough to have conducted a party of dragoons to the head of the pass, and there have stationed them, while another party entered the cañon from below. As the sides of the ravine were impassable precipices, the retreat of the cibolero would have been thus cut off at both ends. True, to have reached the upper plain, without going through the ravine itself—and that, as we have seen would have defeated such a plan—would have cost a journey to the troop to be stationed above. But neither Vizcarra nor Roblado would have grudged either the time or the men to have rendered success thus sure. The mulatto and his dusky camarado knew all this perfectly, but to have caused such a plan to be put in execution was the last thought in their minds. Such a course would have been attended with but little peril to them, but it would have brought as little pay, for every trooper in the whole band would have claimed equal share in the promised reward. That would not be satisfactory to the hunters, whose heads and knowledge had furnished the means and the ways.
Neither entertained any idea of following such a course. Both were confident in their ability to effect their object without aid from any quarter.
From the time they had taken their station on the rock, half-an-hour was all they had to wait. At the end of that period the quick ears of both caught the sound of some one coming from the direction of the ravine. They heard a horse’s hoof striking upon loose shingle, and the rattling of the displaced pebbles. A débris of broken fragments filled the bottom of the ravine, brought there during rain-torrents. Over this ran the path. A horseman was coming down it.
“The güero!” muttered the mulatto; “be sure, boy Pepe.”
“Trust you for a guess, brother Man’l: you were right about the tracks we first fell in with. The cave’s his hiding-place to a certainty. We’ll have him sure when he comes back. Carrai! yonder he comes!”
As the zambo spake, a tall dark form was perceived approaching down the ravine. By the moon gleaming upon it, they could make out the figure of a horse and rider. They had no longer any doubt it was their intended victim.
“Brother Man’l,” whispered the zambo, “suppose he passes near! why not bring down the horse? you can’t miss in this fine light—both of us can aim at the horse; if we stop him we’ll easily overtake the güero.”
“Won’t do, boy Pepe—not easily overtake güero afoot. Get off among rocks—hide for days—can’t track him afoot—be on his guard after—give us trouble—old plan best—let pass—have him safe when he come back—have him sure.”
“But Man’l—”
“Dam! no need for buts—always in a hurry, boy Pepe—have patience—no buts, no fear. See, now!”
This last exclamation was intended to point out to Pepe that his suggestion, even though a wise one, could not have been carried out, as the horseman was not going to pass within range of either rifle or escopeta.
It was plain he was heading down the middle of the cañon, keeping equally distant from the sides, and this course would carry him out into the open plain two hundred yards from the ambush of the hunters.
So did it, for in a few moments he was opposite the spot where they lay, and at full that distance from them. A shot from a hunter’s rifle would not have reached him, and the bullet of an escopeta would have been an uncertain messenger. Neither thought of firing, but lay in perfect silence, firmly holding their dogs down in the crevice of the rocks, and by gestures enjoining them to be still.
The horseman advanced, guiding his horse at a slow pace, and evidently observing caution as he went. While passing, the moon shone full upon him, and the bright points of his harness and arms were seen sparkling under her light. His fair complexion, too, could be distinguished easily, as also his fine erect figure, and the noble outlines of his horse.
“The güero!” muttered Manuel; “all right, boy Pepe!”
“What’s yon ahead?” inquired the zambo.
“Ha! didn’t notice that. Dam! a dog! dog, sure.”
“It is a dog. Malraya!”
“Devil roast that dog!—heard of him before—splendid dog, boy Pepe. Dam! that dog give us trouble. Lucky, wind t’other way. Safe enough now. Dam! see!”
At this moment the horseman suddenly stopped, looking suspiciously in the direction of the rocky spur where they lay. The dog had given some sign.
“Dam!” again muttered the mulatto; “that dog give us trouble yet—thank our luck, wind t’other way.”
There was not much wind either way, but what there was was in the faces of the hunters, and blowing from the horseman. Fortunately for them it was so, also Cibolo would have scented them to a certainty.
Even as things stood, their ambush was near enough discovery. Some slight noise from that quarter—perhaps the hoof of one of their horses against the turf—had awakened the dog’s suspicions—though nothing had been heard by his master. Neither was the dog sure—for the next moment he threw down his head and trotted on. The horseman followed and in a few minutes both were out of sight.
“Now, boy Pepe, for the cave!”
“Vamos!”
Both descended from the ridge, and, mounting their horses, rode through among the scattered rocks. They entered the ravine, and kept up its edge until the gradual narrowing brought them into the same path by which the horseman had lately descended. Up this they rode, keeping their eyes bent on the cliff to the right—for on that side was the cave.
They had no fear of their tracks being discernible, even should the güero return by daylight, for the path lay over hard rock already marked by the hoofs of his own horse. For all that the mulatto was uneasy; and at intervals repeated half to himself, and half in the hearing of his companion—
“Dam! dog give trouble, sure give trouble—dam!”
At length the mouth of the cave, like a dark spot upon the rock, appeared on one side. After silently dismounting, and leaving his horse with Pepe, the mulatto crawled up the ledge and reconnoitred the entrance. Even the probability that some one might have been left there was not overlooked by this keen hunter, and every precaution was taken.
After listening a moment at the entrance he sent in the dogs, and, as neither bark nor howl came out again, he was satisfied that all was safe. He then crawled in himself, keeping on the shadowy side of the rock. When he had got fairly within the cavern, he struck a light, at the same time shading it so that the gleam might not fall on the outside. With this he made a hurried examination of the interior; and, now satisfied that the place was untenanted, he came out again, and beckoned his comrade to bring up the horses.
These were led into the cave. Another reconnaissance was made, in which the few articles used by Carlos for eating and sleeping were discovered upon a dry ledge. A serapé, a small hatchet for cutting firewood, an olla for cooking, two or three cups, some pieces of jerked meat and fragments of bread, were the contents of the cavern.
The best of these were appropriated by the intruders; and then, after fastening their horses in a secure corner, and making themselves thoroughly acquainted with the shape and position of the rocky interior, the light was extinguished, and, like beasts of prey, they placed themselves in readiness to receive their unsuspecting victim.