It was just growing light as the two canoes shoved out in the river and resumed their journey. The rapacious wolverines, enraged at the loss of their expected prey, followed them to the very edge of the stream, where their ear-splitting clamor grew more furious than ever. At one time, indeed, it looked us though they were about to jump into the water and swim out to them; and both the boys looked inquiringly at the face of the Pah Utah. The stolid, indifferent expression that they there saw relieved them, and they withdrew all further thought regarding the troublesome animals.
Shasta had loosened the connection between the two boats—not, perhaps, that he was unwilling to carry them also along, but because he judged it was time that the party learned to navigate for themselves.
Tim O'Rooney grasped the paddle, and his handling of it showed no ordinary skill. He had greatly improved upon his performance of yesterday, and kept his position slightly in the rear of the other canoe, whose owner, as a matter of course, timed his speed to that of his pupil.
When the Irishman was tired he passed the paddle to Howard, who had been carefully studying the "style" of Shasta, and whose efforts were modeled after his. Practice alone can make perfect, no matter if the theory in absolutely so. The mind may hold the exact idea, and may send the precise message through the nerves to the muscles, but the latter must make a good many trials before they can carry out orders with exactness.
And so the boy, although, as he believed, he imitated exactly the manner of their dusky friend, was not long in finding that the paddle was by no means as obedient. The reason was that the delicate play of the iron muscles of the Pah Utah could not be seen. They had done this thing so often that it became a matter of course with them.
But having started upon right principles, by the time the boy was so exhausted that he could not move his arms, he could see that he had improved, or as the sovereign people say, "he was getting the knack of it." It was now Elwood's turn, and he caught the paddle with all the enthusiasm which might be expected in a youngster who had been impatiently waiting to take part in some game.
By the time Elwood needed rest, Tim O'Rooney was ready, and so the paddle did unceasing work, each member having all the time necessary for rest, until after they had been to work some hours, the boys found their arms remained tired, and a longer cessation needed.
Shasta seemed to look upon these essays of his friends with no little pleasure. He watched their movements all the time, and a horrible suspicion once entered the head of Tim O'Rooney that he saw him come very near smiling. Whether there were any grounds for this suspicion probably will never be known, unless the Pah Utah takes it into his head to write and tell us.
Shasta remained a few feet in advance, his back being placed toward the prow of his own boat. This relative position—and our "pale faced" friends, it may be said, labored savagely—was kept by him without any effort. Now and then he touched the point of his paddle, but there was scarcely a ripple. It was as a fish is sometimes seen to move through the water with the slightest quiver of its fins.
When all three of our friends were used up, red in the face, panting and sighing for a chance to take a good long rest, a tiny island came in view round a bend in the river, and to their joy they saw Shasta fix his eye upon it and then head his canoe toward the point. Cheered by the prospect, they renewed their work with greater ardor, and in a few moments the boats buried their points in the luxuriant undergrowth along the shore.
The island was quite small, and offered no inducements in the way of game, unless some animal in crossing the river had paused to rest itself and make an exploration of the place. This was scarcely to be expected, and none of the party based any hopes upon it.
After the inmates of the large canoe had stepped upon shore, Shasta sent his backward into the river again by a sweep of his paddle, and headed for the eastern bank, shooting over the surface with amazing speed. His movements were watched with interest and some surprise.
"What can it mean?" asked Elwood.
"Perhaps he is going to leave us."
"I don't think he would do it in that manner. He will make an elaborate good-by for us, for we are getting to understand each other quite well by means of signs."
"Arrah now!" exclaimed Tim O'Rooney, "didn't ye saa that he was disgusted wid our paddling and kaaping him back, and has gone out jist that he may enj'y the pleasure of shtretching his arms in the owld-fashioned manner, as Father O'Shaughnessy said when he tipped over his brother?"
This may have satisfied the Irishman, but hardly the boys. It did not look reasonable to them that the Indian, having just finished three times the amount of work performed by each, was in so great need of additional exercise that he must abandon his friends and paddle off over the river.
"I think he is going to hunt for fish," said Elwood.
"But he could have caught them without going to land."
"Perhaps not. I noticed yesterday that he went where there was a sort of eddy, and you see he can't find that very well unless it is close by land."
Howard pointed to the lower end of the island:
"What better place could he find than that? It is just the spot to catch fish."
By this time Shasta's canoe had reached the bank, but instead of landing he turned the prow down stream, and slowly glided along as if in quest of something. This to Tim O'Rooney was proof of the truth of his declaration.
"What did I tell yees? The thrip to shore was not enough, and he's taking a wee turn further."
"He is looking for a good fishing ground," affirmed Howard. "If it were anything else he would not go so slowly."
"But, see! he has stopped?"
As Elwood spoke the Pah Utah rose in his canoe and stepped ashore. He stooped and employed himself a moment with the canoe and then disappeared.
"It cannot be that he has left us," said Elwood, in considerable alarm.
"No; I think he is hunting for game."
This seemed very reasonable, and the party waited patiently for his return. No personal danger to himself could be expected, as he could not be approached undiscovered by any hostile white man, and being an Indian he could have no cause to fear anything from his own race.
Still there was a vague misgiving that everything was not right—that something unusual would be the result of this separation—and each member of the little party awaited, with more anxiety than he would have confessed, some evidence of the intention of the Pah Utah.
The three whites were still gazing toward the eastern shore, intently looking for some sign, or listening to some sound which might tell something regarding Shasta, when they were startled by a loud whirring or buzzing overhead, and looking up saw a large bird passing within a few feet of them—so close that its claws could be seen curled up against its body, as it made a sudden sweep to the right, frightened at its near approach to its human enemies.
"Shoot it!" called out Elwood to Howard. "My gun isn't loaded, and it will make us a good breakfast."
But the bird, whatever it was, did not choose to wait until the heavy rifle could be brought to bear upon it; and by the time Howard had fairly got the idea through his head, it was skimming away over the country toward the Coast Range.
But a sharper eye and an unerring aim was leveled against it, and as they were watching its flight it suddenly turned over and over, its great wings going like the arms of a windmill as it dropped swiftly to the earth; and, as it disappeared in the trees and undergrowth, the crack of a rifle came across the intervening space.
"That was Shasta!" exclaimed Elwood in delight.
"Certainly, we might have known what he was after. He thinks we do not admire fish as a steady diet and has gone after fowl for us."
"I don't know about that," said Elwood, who sometimes seemed to alternate with Howard in his knowledge of the ways of the wood. "I can't see that there was any more chance of seeing birds there than upon the island. That same fowl passed closer to us than it did to him."
"I suppose," laughed Howard, "that he was hunting after game of some kind, and had no idea of shooting the bird until it passed so near him that he saw it was quite the thing we needed, and so he toppled it over."
"Me views intirely," assented Tim. "I agraas wid both of yees."
A few moments later the Pah Utah appeared with the bird in his hand, and flinging it into the canoe quickly paddled back to the island. His bird proved to be a species of wild goose, that seemed to have strayed from its flock and gone wandering through the Salinas Valley at this season of the year ultimately to fall before the rifle of Shasta.
Our friends were in ecstasies over their prospective meal. The Indian displayed the same skill in dressing the bird that he did in preparing the fish. The feathers were quickly twitched off, and the dry driftwood piled upon the upper end of the island was the best fuel they could have had for the purpose. When done, it was "done brown," and to a turn; and to the famishing travelers nothing could have been more savory and luscious.
The truth of it was, the boys found that this kind of life was agreeing with them amazingly. Their appetites were fierce, their sleep sound, and a feeling of perfect health diffused itself through their glowing frames, such as they had never known before. Their exposure to the night air troubled them at first, but they soon recovered from it and enjoyed "camping out" as thoroughly as did old campaigners.
It was a very good thing, it is true, for a while; but don't let any boys get the idea of following their example, unless they are compelled in precisely the same manner to do so. If any youngster imagines he has formed true ideas of distant countries from the narratives of adventures which he may have read, he will find himself most woefully mistaken. Never think of traveling until you are a married man, and by that time you will have made up your mind to be sensible and stay at home.
When the meal was finished, and their appetites satisfied, the Pah Utah, instead of immediately embarking, walked to the lower end of the island, and stood for some time apparently examining some sign further down the river. Following the direction of his eyes, our friends could see nothing unusual until Elwood detected something in the air on the western bank which at first resembled a light cloud, but which they imagined might be caused by a camp-fire.
Whatever it was that attracted the attention of Shasta he took but a few moments to decide regarding it. Going again to his canoe, he entered it without a word or sign, and paddled away at his swiftest rate straight toward it, while his companions watched the proceeding with as much interest as in the preceding case.
The camp appeared fully a half-mile distant, and it took but a short time for the Indian to reach a point opposite, when he sprung lightly ashore and disappeared with his usual celerity.
"He is cautious," remarked Elwood. "He doesn't wish us to undertake to pass it unless he is sure there will be no trouble."
"A sinsible young man!" asserted Tim. "His parents have the best raison for faaling proud of so promising a young gintleman."
"And so have we."
A few moments elapsed, when the Pah Utah reappeared and came back as rapidly as he went.
The first thing he did upon reaching the island was again to fasten the boats together, and then motion to the three to enter. This, of course, they did without delay, and took their usual positions.
But Shasta was not satisfied. He told them, in his manner, to lie down; and not until the three had so arranged themselves as to be invisible from both shores, did he dip his paddle and resume his journey.
"This means danger," said Elwood. "He doesn't wish any one to know we are in the boats."
"And we must be sure and obey him."
"It's aisy doing, as my brother used to say whin his wife tould him, in her gintle manner, by the help of her broomstick, to go to bed."
"And, Elwood, you are close to Terror, see that he doesn't let his curiosity got the better of his judgment."
The Pah Utah was satisfied, and now began plying his paddle. It was difficult for the three so to govern their curiosity as not to peep over the side of the canoe; but there were good reasons for their not doing so, and they scarcely moved a limb for the next hour.
They had gone but a little way when Terror raised his head and uttered a slight bark; but a word from Elwood quieted him. Finally, Shasta paused and uttered a guttural sound in his own tongue, which was taken as permission for them to rise.
As they did so, they looked behind. The dim smoke ascending in the summer sky was seen far behind, and between it and them the Salinas made another bend, so that they had no cause to fear observation from that party at least.
Shasta again disconnected the two canoes—an act which did not surprise them; but his next proceeding astonished them a good deal.
Reaching across the boats, he shook hands with them all, at the same time muttering a word or two to each.
"He is going to leave us," said Elwood, with an air of disappointment.
"He has good reason for doing so, but I am afraid it will be bad for us."
"Adieu, Mr. Shasta, adieu!" said Tim O'Rooney, with considerable feeling. "You've done us a good turn and we'll not forget you. If yez ever drifts into San Francisco, give us a call."
The Indian motioned to them to proceed, and using his paddle with his extraordinary skill, he sped up the river toward the camp-fire, and in a very short time vanished.
The departure of Shasta gave rise to all manner of doubt and speculation. None of them believed he meditated bidding the party good-by until he went through the ceremony of shaking hands. This settled the matter, and they could have no cause for hope of seeing him again.
"That must have been a party of his people," said Howard, "or he would not have taken the pains to help us out of sight."
"At any rate, he has done us good service," replied Elwood. "I don't know what would have become of us but for him."
They had not yet begun using their paddle, but were drifting with the current, debating upon their course of action.
"I think I understand why he left us," added Howard, after a moment's pause.
Tim and Elwood looked up in his face.
"I think we have passed through most of the danger, and he thought we were just as safe without him as with him. Don't you see, Elwood, that we have come a good ways down the river, and we must be near some settlement. I think there is a place called Soledad somewhere along this river, but whether on the eastern or western bank I cannot tell."
"It is a good ways off, I should say fifty miles, and is on the western bank."
"How comes it thatyouare so well informed?" asked Howard, repeating the question that had been asked him by his cousin when on the steamer.
"It is only accidentally that I know that. A few weeks ago I was comparing an old and new geography and noticed what different views they gave of the western part of our country. The old maps had the Buenaventura so wrong in every particular that I learned considerable about the true one, which you know is called Salinas by most people."
"If we are very careful, I think we can get home without trouble; but although there must be white people—settlers and miners—in these parts, still they are so scattered that we are less likely to see them than we are the Indians."
"Boys," said Tim O'Rooney, who had not let his pipe go out since morning. "Shall I give yez some good advice?"
Both expressed their eagerness to receive it.
"There bees plenty of the rid gintlemen yet in this counthry, and we haven't got beyant them. If we goes paddling in this canoe when the sun is shining overhead, some of 'em will see us, and if we don't put into shore they'll put out after us—that they will."
"What is it that you propose, then?"
"That we turns the night into day, and slaaps and smokes and meditates by sunlight, and does our traveling by moonlight, or what is bether, without any light at all."
This proposal suited the boys exactly. It was so plainly dictated by common sense that the wonder was they had not thought of it long before. Elwood took the paddle in his hand and held it poised.
"Which way—east or west?"
Howard pointed to the left bank.
"That is the side wheretheyare," replied Elwood, referring to the Indian party they had passed.
"And whereheis," meaning their good friend, the Pah Utah.
"To the left—to the left," said Tim. "Didn't I git into the worst throuble of me life—always barring the repulse me Bridget give me—by hunting in them parts?"
Elwood delayed no longer, but plied the oars with a dexterity that showed his experience had not been lost upon him.
"You understand it quite well," said Howard approvingly.
"Yes; but my arms ache terribly."
"Ah! here we are."
The prow of the canoe moved as silently and easily into the undergrowth as if it were water, and our friends at a step passed from every portion of it to dry land.
As they intended remaining in their present quarters until darkness, they took some pains to select a suitable place. They finally hit upon a spot, on an incline of the river bank, and about a dozen yards distant. Here the grass was green and velvety, and the wood so thick that they had little fear of discovery, unless by some who had seen them land and took the trouble to hunt them out.
It was about noon when they landed, and as they had all spent a wakeful night, their first proceeding was so to arrange themselves as to enjoy a quiet sleep. Terror was placed on duty as sentinel, and all lay down with a sense of security to which they had been strangers in a long time.
As usual, the boys were the first to awake, doing so almost at the same moment. They saw by the sun that the afternoon was about half gone, but they were not troubled from hunger, as their morning meal may be said to have been their midday one, and had been one of those royal ones whose memory is apt to linger a long time with us, especially if we are boys.
"This is tiresome," said Elwood, yawning and stretching his limbs, "let us take a tramp of discovery."
The proposal suited Howard, although prudence told him to remain where he was and keep his friend with him. But the restraint was so irksome that he was all too willing a listener to the persuasions of his companion.
"I noticed there was quite a high range of hills just back of us," added Elwood. "Let's take a look at them."
"Is it prudent?" and Howard only repeated audibly the question that his conscience had just asked him.
"Prudent? Of course it is, if we only take good care of ourselves."
"Shall we awake Tim before we go?"
"No; he will sleep until to-morrow morning."
"We must leave Terror to watch him then, for it wouldn't do for him to lie alone and asleep."
"Of course not."
The Newfoundland, which had risen to his feet, was told to remain on guard, and the boys started off on a ramble that was to be a most eventful one to them.
After the restraint the boys had undergone, cramped in the canoe, and not daring to wander out of sight of their camp-fire when upon shore, there was a delicious relief in rambling through the woods. The clear, pure air that was dry and cool in the shadow of the forest, the undulating, charming scenery, the novel look that rested upon all they saw—these possessed a charm to our young friends which they hardly could have resisted, even if they had the will to do so; but when we say that after starting forth scarcely a thought of their imprudence entered their heads, it was but natural that they should find themselves led much further away than was either wise or consistent with the resolves with which they left their friends, Tim and Terror.
They took no notice of the direction they were following, nor of the distance they had gone, until near the middle of the afternoon Howard abruptly paused and asked, with a look of alarm:
"Elwood, what have we done?"
"Why? What is the matter?"
"We must be a mile off from Tim, and it will be dark before we can get back."
"O! I think not. You know we have walked very slowly, and we can hurry when we take it into our heads to return."
"But do you know the way?"
"Certainly. Don't you?"
"What course must we follow?"
Elwood pointed to the northwest, which, while it was not far from their general course, was by no means the proper one by which to rejoin their companion.
"How strange!" said Howard. "It seems to me that yonder is the point from which we started."
Andhepointed nearly due west, just as wrong as he could possibly be.
"You are wrong," said Elwood positively. "I am sure of the right way."
"We won't dispute over it," replied his companion, with some sadness, "for it is very doubtful if either of us is right."
"All we have to do then, is to hunt for the river and follow that up until we find Tim sound asleep."
"Yea; but how is the river to be found? To you it lies in one place, and to me in another."
"But I can prove that you are wrong, and," laughed Elwood, "that I am, too, although I was never right."
"How so?"
"The sun sets in the west, and notice where it is."
Howard now opened his eyes in amazement. He would have been sure that it was going down in the other part of the sky; but the proof before his eyes was irrefragable.
"It must be," he replied. "We have been 'turned round.' Just as when we left the wharf at New York. I was below when the steamer came out, and so long as New York was in sight I was sure it lay in the wrong place."
"But, how bad even that makes it! We cannot reach the river before dark, and we shall not know whether we am a mile above or below where Tim is sleeping."
"If we go straight for the river, I think it likely that we shall come much nearer him than that."
"It may be, but how are we to tell?"
"Why, if we don't find him by night, we can fire oft our guns and call to him."
"And bring a party of the savages down upon us."
"That may be if there are any in the neighborhood, but we shall have to run the risk."
By this time the boys were fully impressed with their want of discretion and with the urgent necessity of making all haste back to the river.
"Let us keep our thoughts about us," said Howard, "for we have been without them long enough. Now, the Salinas River runs very nearly north and south, doesn't it?"
"This portion of it does."
"Then we must go as nearly east as we can, and let's be off."
Turning their backs upon the sun, they began retracing their steps; but they had journeyed scarce half an hour when they found themselves near a range of hills, which they were sure they had not passed through, and did not remember to have seen.
"What does this mean?" asked Howard, still more alarmed. "We never have been near these."
"Are they not the hills we noticed just us we were about starting?"
"They cannot be;—these are larger, have not half as much wood upon them. I tell you, Elwood, there is one thing sure."
"I know what you mean."
"What is it?"
"We are lost!"
"You are right. We may find Tim again, but we are going to have trouble to do it."
"Listen! He may call to us."
They stopped walking find held their breath, but not a sound broke the solemn stillness, save a faint, hollow roar—whether the deep murmur that is always heard in a great forest, or the sound of the distant Pacific Ocean they could not tell.
"No; he is asleep yet," said Elwood. "If he would only wake up he would shout to us."
"Thus you see, if we shoot our guns, the chances are thathewill not hear it, while it may be the means of bringing to us the very ones we are so anxious to keep away."
So they concluded not to fire their rifles for the present.
"But these hills," continued Howard, "they don't extend in any great direction either north or south. The question now is, shall we pass around the northern or southern end?"
"What difference will it make?"
"All the difference in the world. If Tim is to the south of us, and we pass around that way, I think we shall find him without much hunting, while if we take the wrong course it will be night before we can get anywhere near him."
"I see," replied Elwood. "We shall have to guess at it. But, hold!" he exclaimed, with sparkling eyes. "You go one way and I will another!"
Howard shook his head.
"There is too much risk."
"Not at all. The distance is short, and we can whistle to each other every few minutes. Then, you know, as we shall be looking for each other, we cannot lose ourselves in these still woods. The minute I get sight of the river I can tell whether we are above or below Tim."
Howard would not consent at first, but his cousin set forth the advantages of the plan so eloquently that he finally agreed. Arranging their signals and manner of proceeding, the boys, therefore, separated.
The hill which the boys proposed to pass around was about a quarter of a mile in length and but slightly less in breadth—much greater than either of them suspected when they set out. It rose like a peak to the height of several hundred feet, as if it were an offshoot from the main ridge of hills, left to flourish by itself.
Howard walked slowly along, after glancing back at his cousin until the intervening wood concealed him from view, when he gave a short, sharp whistle, which was immediately answered. Then, appreciating the necessity of haste, he quickened his footsteps.
As he advanced the hills assumed proportions of which he had not dreamed, and that raised in his mind strong doubts as to the wisdom of separating from his companion. He would not have done it had not the latter urged him so. Misgivings now arose in the mind of the boy. He looked upon his duty as that of restraining and tempering Elwood's impulsiveness. He had done so several times to his manifest advantage; but on this day, as Howard looked back, it really appeared as if he had bidden good-by to his senses. Their separation from Tim was almost criminal in its foolishness, and yet he had scarcely raised an objection; and now, was not the last proceeding still more imprudent? As it stood, the three members of the little party who should never have been out of each other's sight, were now a good distance from each other, and that, too, when in a hostile country.
From these rather sad reflections Howard was roused by the faint, echoing whistle of Elwood.
"He is all right," thought he, feeling much relieved, as he placed his fingers to his mouth and returned the whistle. "We are both now passing around the hill, so that we cannot get further apart, and can keep within call all the time."
Admonished by the lateness of the hour, Howard almost ran. He grew somewhat impatient at the unexpected extent of the hill; but finally he passed beyond the southern point, and as he stood and listened, he heard the murmur of the river—proof that it was close at hand.
"Now," thought he, "if Elwood will only hurry, we have a good chance of finding Tim before he gives us up for lost."
The boy could not see that anything at all was gained by their course in passing around the ridge. Neither of them, were in sight of the river, and would have to advance still further before they could form any idea of their whereabouts. He was resolved to do this in company with his cousin, so that precisely the same thing would have been accomplished had they remained together.
Howard having hurried a great deal, thought it likely that he was some distance in advance of his cousin. He stood some minutes listening for his signals, and then began walking toward the northern end of the hill that he might meet him as he came around. He observed as he advanced that they increased in rocky ruggedness, and could see that it was quite a feat to pass through them.
Going some distance he paused again, and listened intently, but nothing beside the deep murmur of the woods reached his ear.
"What can it mean?" he finally asked himself, as a vague alarm crept over him. "We must be much closer together than we were before, and I haven't heard him whistle for the last half-hour."
He began to doubt whether it was best to proceed further or not. It might serve only to mislead in case Elwood was searching for him. Still hearing nothing to indicate the location of his friend, he made the signal himself—a long, screeching whistle, that rang out in the solemn stillness with a penetrating clearness that sent the chills over him from head to foot.
"He must hear that if he is within a mile," was his reflection, as he leaned his head forward and listened for the first approach of the answering sound.
Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed away, but nothing was heard, and the poor boy looked around in sore alarm.
"Can it be that Elwood is jesting?" he asked himself. "He would not do so if he knew what I am suffering."
Howard was now in great distress. He could not decide what to do. If he advanced he could feel no assurance of meeting his friend, while a retreat was equally hopeless.
Where was Elwood? Had he wandered off among the hills, tempted by the wild scenery, and had he lost his way? Was he searching for his cousin? Or had he been found by Indians?
The last inquiry had been rising in Howard's mind for a half-hour, but he had resolutely forced it down again, until he could keep it away no longer. He could find no other reason to account for the silence, and failure to answer his call. The whistle which he had given must have spread miles in every direction—so far that Elwood could not have got beyond its range had the course of both been precisely opposite. No; it must——
But, hark! A faint, tremulous whistle comes to his ear. It is far away and sounds among the hills behind, as though it had labored up from some cave or chasm miles distant. Howard held his breath, and as he anticipated, it came again so faintly and distantly that had he been walking he could not have heard it.
On both occasions it sounded behind him among the hills, though its tremulous faintness made it appear as though it came from far up in the air, or down deep in some of the gorges of the hills—so uncertain was the exact point of its starting.
Poor Howard was now in a dilemma. Whether to attempt to follow up the signal or to go on to the river and search out Tim O'Rooney and the Newfoundland was a question which was difficult to decide. But his eagerness to find his cousin led him on into the hills, until he had penetrated quite a distance. He then paused and listened for the signal, but none was ever to come to his ears again.
Howard repeated the whistle over and over, and finally fired his gun; but both were equally fruitless. He waited where he was until dark, when with a sad heart he withdrew and resumed his tramp toward the river. Gloomy indeed were his meditations, as he reflected on the occurrences of the day, and there was scarcely anything he would not do, if by any means he could recallhispart since he landed upon the main shore.
In the course of half an hour he reached the river, and looked intently out into the semi-darkness to see whether he could recognize anything familiar; but so far as he was able to see, all was strange, from which he concluded that he had struck at a point lower down than where Tim had been left.
He therefore began making his way south, that is, toward the source of the river, after halting and listening for some sound that might tell something either of Tim or Elwood. Suddenly a threatening growl startled him, and then came the welcome bark of Terror, and the next moment the dog was frolicking around him and showing his delight in the most extravagant manner.
"Worrah! worrah! but this is a fine scare you've been givin' Tim O'Rooney, so me uncle said whin they towld him his wife was coming over to Ameriky to see him. Here I've been awake fur the last two hours, jist, looking and expacting you to come back, and thinking the red colored gintleman had carried you away entirely——"
Howard impatiently interrupted him.
"Have you seen or heard anything of Elwood?"
"No-o-o!" replied Tim, his answer rising and falling in a circumflex through a half-dozen notes of the scale.
"Then he is lost!"
"What?" fairly shrieked the Irishman.
"He is lost in the woods."
Howard had little heart to go over the experiences of the afternoon. He simply told his friend that he and Elwood had separated on their return, and he had been unable to find him again.
"What did you separate for?" asked the listener.
"Because I was a fool; but O, Tim, there is no use of regretting what has been done. If Elwood is lost, I shall never leave this place."
After a while Howard became more composed, and they conversed rationally upon the best plan for them to follow. Tim O'Rooney was strenuous in his belief that Elwood had wandered off among the hills, and finding it growing dark, had sought some secure shelter for the night. He was sure that he would give vigorous signs of his whereabouts as soon as day dawned.
There was something in the daring nature of the boy that made it probable that Tim was right. Tempted out of his path by some singular or unexpected sight, he had wandered away until he found it too dark to return, and so had made the best of the matter and camped in some tree, or beneath the ledge of some projecting rock.
Such was the theory of Tim O'Rooney, and so ingeniously did he enforce it that Howard could not avoid its plausibility. None knew better than he the impulsive nature of the boy, and such an act upon his part would be in perfect keeping with similar exploits.
There was but one thing that raised a doubt in the mind of Howard—and slight as was this, it was enough to give him sore uneasiness, and at times almost to destroy hope. At the time the boys separated, Elwood had shown a great anxiety to reach Tim, and proposed his plan in the belief that it would bring them together the more quickly.
This made it seem improbable to Howard that he would have allowed anything to divert him from his course unless his personal safety caused him to do so; but Tim said that if such were the case they would have heard his gun.
"Do you s'pose he's the boy to lit a wild animal or any of them red gintlemen step up to him without his tachin' thim manners? But he's the youngster that wouldn't do the same. You'd hear that gun of his cracking away as long as there was any lift for him to crack."
"It may be as you think, Tim, but I believe it is worse. Suppose he is in the hands of some of these wandering bands of Indians."
"S'pose he isn't."
"We have done that; but let us face the worst. If he has been taken away by them, what shall we do?"
"Hunt him up."
"That is true, but how that is to be done is the difficulty. If we only had Shasta with us."
"Arrah, now, if ye'd had him ye'd've niver gone thramping off in the woods and having me alone here with the dog. The red gintleman knowed what was best for us, and do ye mind, he kept his eye upon yez all the time."
Howard had thought the same thing a score of times since noon, and there was no need of his being told how the Pah Utah would have acted had he remained with them.
"I thinks Mr. Shasta isn't a great many miles off. P'rhaps," added Tim, significantly, "he's kapin' watch upon us and will come to our help in our throuble."
But the contingency, to Howard at least, was too remote for him to build any hopes upon it. It seemed more probable that the Indian's friendship had led him much further out of the way than they had suspected, and that he was now many a long mile off, speeding toward home.
"He may find out that the youngster is wid 'em," added Tim, "whin he will hasten to his relaaf."
"That seems the most likely."
"There's but one thing agin it."
"And what is that?"
But the Irishman was silent. The boy repeated his question.
"It's bad—let it be."
But Howard insisted.
"Wal, you know, they may—wal—put him out the way."
"O Tim!" groaned Howard, "that cannot be, that cannot be!"
"I hopes not, but there's no telling what these sarpints may take into their heads to do. They're a bad set of craytures, always barring Mr. Shasta, and I'd've thought a good daal more of the same if he'd only staid a few days longer wid us."
"He thought we had enough sense to take care of ourselves, after he had seen us through the most dangerous part of our journey, otherwise he would have remained with us to the end. But, as I said a minute ago, it does no good for us to lament what cannot be helped. As soon as it is light we must go up among the hills with Terror and make a hunt for Elwood."
"Yees spake the truth. The dog may be smarter than we is, and I'm thinkin' it wouldn't have to be very smart to be in that same fix, and we'll sarch till we finds out something about him."
"It is fortunate for poor Elwood that the night is so mild and pleasant."
"Fort'nit for ourselves, be the same towken; for without our fire we'd be rather cool when we slept, and the cold would keep us awake all night."
"But we have the blanket with us, and that would protect us at any time, no matter how cold it might be."
"Yis," assented Tim, with a great sigh. "If I only had me pipe under way I'd faal somewhat more comfortable, barring the worriment I faals at the absence of the youngster. May God watch over him through the darkniss!"
"Amen!" was this reverent response of Howard.
All through the night Tim O'Rooney and Howard Lawrence sat in close consultation. Hunger and sleep were alike unthought of. Elwood Brandon was lost, and that was all of which they could think or speak. How they longed for the morning, and how impatient they were to be on the hunt! It seemed to Howard as if he could go leaping and flying down the chasms and gorges among the hills, and never tire until he had hunted out and brought back his cousin. Where could he be? If nestling in the branches of a tree, or hid away among the rocks, was he asleep? Or if awake, of what was he thinking? Did he believe that Howard was searching for him? Or did he imagine him also lost? It would not be reasonable to suppose that he had any suspicion of his finding Tim O'Rooney.
If in the hands of California Indians——But it would be vain to trace out all the thoughts and speculations that ran through the head of the boy. Some of them were of the wildest and most grotesque character, and would assume a ludicrous phase to one whose mind was not in such a whirl of excitement and distress.
In the gloom of the wood the darkness was so intense that neither Tim nor Howard could distinguish each other, though only a few feet apart. The Newfoundland lay close to his master, seemingly sound asleep, but more heedful than the two of the approach of danger.
Occasionally through the night the call of some wild animal was heard—sometimes distant and sometimes so near that they started to their feet and were about to enter their canoe and shove out into the stream; but when it came no more they were reassured. Then something like the report of a gun came faintly up the river to their ears.
These sounds only served to render the night more gloomy and lonely, and to make the daylight the more welcome.
"Now let's be off," said Howard, as soon as it was light enough to distinguish each other's faces.
"We must find some means of remembering this place, or we'll never see the canoe agin, and will be obliged to sail into San Francisco on fut."
The boat was drawn entirely out of the water and covered as much as possible with leaves and undergrowth; for it was a loss that under any circumstances they could not sustain. The feat of marking the place so that they could readily return to it from any direction was more difficult; but Howard finally hit upon quite an ingenious scheme. They waited until the sun had approached near enough to the horizon that they could tell precisely the point where it would appear, and then turning their backs against it they walked forward until they reached the hills where Elwood had disappeared. Here they noticed the character and formation of the rocks so particularly that they could recognize them the moment they saw them. Thus the hills were such a conspicuous landmark as to be seen from a great distance; and, as they did not intend to go out of their sight, all they had to do was to hunt till they found this spot, and then walk due east.
All this was agreed upon, and they were among the hills just as the sun was coming up the horizon. Here, after whistling and shouting for sometime without receiving any response, they concluded to search for the point where the boys separated. This was quite distant, and over an hour was required to find the place, and when it was discovered Howard could not be positive that he was right.
But as time was of the greatest importance, they pressed on, the dog snuffing the ground as though he had scented the footprints, but he failed to follow them with certainty. Several hundred yards brought them to an opening in the hills just broad enough to admit the body of a man. It was not a tunnel-like opening, but a rent, as if the hills had been pulled a few feet asunder by the power of an earthquake.
The two paused in doubt before this.
"He went in there," said Tim. "He couldn't help it, no matter how great his hurry."
"I am half disposed to believe you; at any rate let us follow it some ways."
Terror was running over the ground, as though he had made a discovery, and he finally whisked forward out of sight.
"That looks as if he were upon his trail."
"Yis, or somebody ilse's; maybe some of the rid gintlemen has took his marnin' walk in this direction."
They followed the path with caution, and were surprised the further they advanced. It wound around and among the rocks, which came so close together as to forbid the passage of a man, and the sides never withdrawing more than a dozen feet.
"It looks as though it had been made on purpose," said Tim, gazing around him in admiration.
Finally, it was broken up among the hills, after winding through every point of the compass for fully an eighth of a mile. It gradually rose from its commencement—occasionally interrupted by sharp ascents—until its termination, when they found they had reached no mean elevation.
Still the rocks rose on every hand, and shut out their view of the surrounding country, but showed them a specimen of the wild scenery produced in California. The interior of the hills was cut up by chasms, gorges and ravines, and they heard, but did not see, the rush of a small stream of water.
They stood in silence a few moments and then Howard said:
"If he is lost in here there is no need of us looking for him."
"And why not?"
"We might search till we died of old age, and never find the least trace of him."
"And might discover the poor youngster's body the first half-hour we spint in looking."
This last remark caused Howard to start off at once, fully resolved not to pause again in the search until compelled to do so.
Terror was constantly commanded to hunt for the trail of the boy, and the dog appeared to understand what was expected of him, for he was running constantly hither and thither, but never gave sign that he had found anything positive.
This fact led Howard to doubt whether Elwood had preceded them in this place. If he had really been here, he must have passed directly over the spot upon which they were standing, and it seemed hardly possible that the dog could miss the scent. So strong was he impressed with this that he proposed to Tim O'Rooney to turn back and resume their search outside the hills; but he was so sure that Elwood Brandon could never have passed unentered such an inviting opening that he would not consent to withdraw until they examined further.
Looking around they saw several paths by which they could enter the wild, desolate-looking scene before them. Of course, it was all a matter of chance whether they took the one which had been followed by their lost friend. Tim affirmed that the one that looked the most dangerous and uninviting was surely the right one; but Howard was hardly prepared to admit this. Selecting the most accessible, they carefully followed it for over an hour. In and out among the rocks, sometimes over their tops, then between or around them, down through ravines, and then along their edges, up the stony, earthy sides of the gorges, until at length they halted as they believed in the very heart of this wild looking place.
"Here we are!" said Howard. "I don't see how we can advance much further without going out to the other side."
"It's the qua'rest sight I iver looked upon," said Tim, turning round and round, meaning the wild scenery.
"But there is nothing learned of Elwood."
"Niver a sign do I saa of the youngster," rejoined Tim. "I graive to think we cannot be near him."
"We have gone on the wrong track."
"I'm a feared so."
"Too bad, too bad," wailed Howard, "what is to come of the poor fellow?"
"But we can't till," hastily added Tim, "do yees put your fingers in your mouth and give that jolly little whistle."
Howard Lawrence was in the very act of doing so when his arm was suddenly arrested by his companion, who, with an exclamation of surprise pointed to a ledge of rocks above them.
About a hundred and fifty feet above them, almost perpendicularly upward, stood an antelope, its small neck outstretched, and its dark, beautiful eyes fixed upon them with a wondering expression. It was on the very edge of a projecting rock where one step more would bring it over.
"It is jist the jintleman we wants," whispered Tim, fearful that he would alarm the timid animal. "We've ate but once in twenty-four hours, and I've jist learned from me stomach that it would have no objection to breaking the same fast; so do yez jist kape still till I pops him over."
"Can you hit him?" asked Howard, scarcely less excited than his companion.
"Be aisy now till ye see the scientific manner I takes to doot."
"Well, be quick, for he is likely to vanish any moment."
Tim O'Rooney carefully sighted his rifle, took a quick, steady aim, and pulled the trigger. Howard, who was keenly watching the antelope, saw it spring up, and as it came down it missed the cliff and fell almost at their very feet with a violence and crash which must have broken half the bones in its body.
"Arrah now, an' wasn't that done nicely?" exclaimed Tim, in great exultation, as he ran up to the animal with his knife.
"Are you going to dress it?"
"Yis; an' do yez gather what sticks an' stuff ye can, an' we'll have him cooked in a jiffy."
Howard set about it, for he understood the wisdom of providing themselves with food in the prosecution of this hunt, which in all probability would employ them for some time to come.
"Now, I will give the signal," said he, when his work was completed. "If he is within hearing he will answer it."
"Yis; do your bist, while I pays my respects to this gintleman, an' do ye do the listenin' while ye are about it, for I'm so taken up with this job that I haven't the time to attend to that aither."
Howard strained his cheeks nearly to bursting, and completely exhausted himself in giving forth those ringing screeches which seem to come natural to all school-boys, and are made by uniting the ends of two fingers, inserting them between the lips, and blowing with all the might.
He listened—listened—listened—and then repeated the signal with a desperate fierceness that left him no strength at all; but all in vain—the echoes died away among the rocks and hills, but no answer came back.
"It's no use," remarked Tim O'Rooney, who despite what he had said was listening as earnestly as his young friend.
"The youngster don't hear us. We've got to make a hunt through this old place, and afore we begins it we'll take something for the stomach's sake."
The fire was kindled in the usual manner, and the dinner was not unskillfully prepared by the Irishman. They ate all they could hold. The dog did the same. Tim lit his pipe, and then declared that he was ready for any duty that might be required of him.
As they rose to their feet they were somewhat alarmed at the appearance of the sky. It was overspread with dark, threatening clouds, from which issued rumbling peals of thunder and arrowy lines of lightning. They became darker and more tumultuous each moment, until semi-darkness shrouded them.
"We are going to have a storm," remarked Howard.
"Yis; and a good-sized one, too."
"We shall have to find shelter for ourselves. If much rain falls, this gorge looks to me as if it will be filled with water."
"Worrah, now, but yez are a smart child!" exclaimed Tim O'Rooney, looking admiringly at the boy. "Scarcely mesilf would have thought of the same, and what a credit, therefore, that it should have come into your own."
"I see nothing so wonderful about that. Almost any one would see the danger we are in if we remain here when there is much rain falling. It is just the place for a stream of water."
"So it is—so it is; and yez can saa that there has wather been running over the stones upon which we are standing."
The storm which was so near at hand admonished them to lose no time in seeking shelter. This was a matter of small difficulty, as in such a wild, rugged place there were any number of retreats. They clambered up the path and over the rocks until they reached a point higher yet than where the antelope had stood when pierced by the bullet that had tumbled him over the cliff. They had brought a goodly portion of his meat with them, for there was no telling when they would dare fire a gun again.
A gaping, overhanging ledge, which fortunately was turned from the direction of the storm, was selected as their house, and here they and the dog nestled and waited for the storm to burst. A few large drops that cracked smartly upon the rocks and stones, was the herald of the coming deluge; and then, at the same moment, with a terrific flash and report, came the rain in torrents.
They stood and watched the storm as it raged, and when there was a momentary cessation Howard threw his blanket over his head and said:
"I will run out to the edge of that rock and see whether there is any water in the place where we took our dinner."
"Be careful yez don't tumble over," admonished Tim, feeling it his duty to say something.
"Never fear."
Howard stepped hastily to the spot and looked carefully over. A tiny stream was just beginning to run through the path they had occupied, which was increasing each moment, and would speedily reach the proportions of a torrent. But, although he saw this, there was something which interested him still more, and that was a party of five Indians attentively examining the remains of the antelope, and the signs around it, as if they were seeking their explanation. They looked down to the ground, and two of them pointed precisely in the direction which Tim and Howard had taken in leaving the place.
The rain began falling again more copiously than ever, but Howard would not have heeded it had he not been shrouded in the water-proof blanket. Those Indians had found their camp-fire and were at that moment discussing the best method of capturing him and Tim; but the rain came down so furiously that they finally darted away to seek shelter, and Howard thereupon hurried back to his friend and told him all that he had seen.
"That settles the matter," he added. "Elwood is in their hands, and if we aint careful we shall be with him, for they are searching for us."
"But they can't find us—that they can't."
"Why not?"
"This rain will wipe out our tracks as aisy as if yees had taken a cloth and done it yourself."
"That is true."
Howard was greatly relieved when he reflected that this was true, and that he and Tim were in no danger of capture from being pursued.
The storm lasted several hours, and when it was finished they came cautiously forth and made their way stealthily back to where they had left the canoe. They had deliberated long and earnestly regarding Elwood Brandon, and neither of them had any doubt but what he was in the hands of Indians. They had little fear of his being put to death, but believed he would be held a prisoner until either rescued by Shasta, or a party could be sent from the nearest post to ransom him. They had concluded to make all haste homeward and adopt this method of rescue.
And now, as they had given him up for a while, it is high time we took him in hand.
When Elwood Brandon separated from Howard Lawrence on the afternoon of their ramble in the woods, it was with the firm intention of making all haste around the range of hills, and there to unite with him in their hunt for Tim.
But, like too many boys, he suffered himself to be led from the sure path by the allurements of the false one. His example furnished a striking moral lesson, which he will doubtless remember to the day of his death.
When we are following the course which conscience tells us is the true one, although it may be rough and stony, and at times most difficult to keep, yet the knowledge of what awaits us at the end should be proof against temptations to turn aside. Woe to him who chides the voice of conscience and listens to that of the charmer!
Elwood had gone some distance, and was walking very rapidly, when he came abruptly upon the opening in the rocks which has been mentioned in another place.
"Ah! here is a shorter cut across," was his reflection as he saw it, and not stopping to think further, he turned and walked rapidly through it. "I will beat Howard," and he smiled at the thought. "What will he think when he gets around to see me waiting for him? I know he will run so as to be there first."
Thus hopeful, Elwood hurried forward, thinking only of the surprise he would give his cousin when they met again. As he found the path taking a most sinuous course, a dim idea came through his head that perhaps after all he had not gained so much by "cutting across." He would have turned back as it was but for the rapidly increasing darkness and the belief that he must speedily emerge from the eastern side of the hills.
While walking through a narrow part of the path, he was alarmed by the rattling of some dirt, stones and debris over his head, and before he could retreat or advance he was stricken on the head by several pieces with such violence that he staggered and fell to the ground.
He was not senseless, but somewhat stunned, and placed his hand on his head to see whether it was cut. Finding no blood, he arose to his feet and replied to the whistle of Howard, which had been ringing in his ears for the last ten minutes.
Immediately after, he was taken with a sickness at the stomach, the result, doubtless, of the mental shock received. Such was his faintness and nausea that he lay down upon the ground for relief. When a boy feels so sick—as shown also by older persons in seasickness—he generally becomes perfectly indifferent to everything else in the world. Elwood concluded that Howard might whistle as long as he chose, and he would reply when he felt able. As for the gathering darkness, wild animals and savages, what did he care for them? They could exist and get along without his taking any trouble to think about them.
And so he lay still until his sickness diminished and was gradually succeeded by drowsiness, which was not long in merging into slumber.
Whoever yet remembered the moment he went to sleep? Whoever lay still to gain a few moments of slumber without obtaining far more than he expected, and regretting it when his intellect became sharp and clear?
It was near midnight when Elwood awoke, and all was blank darkness. He called to Howard and Tim, and not until he had felt around with his hands, did he remember his situation. Then it all came to him.
"This is a pretty piece of business," he thought, as he arose to his feet. "Poor Howard is half-frightened to death, and I suppose is still hunting for me. But I don't hear him."
He listened, but all was still.
"It may be that he has grown tired, but will hear me if I call to him."
Whereupon he whistled again and again, and shouted and listened and then repeated his signals, but there was no response. But for the intervening hills his cry would have reached the two watchers by the river shore, but with twice the penetrating power he still would have failed to reach them.
"Well, the best thing I can do is to wait here until morning, and then I can make my way back again."
His sickness was gone, but he felt somewhat chilled from lying upon the ground with no extra covering, although the night was quite moderate, if not really warm. The contact with the ground had made a portion of his body cold, and the sluggish circulation prompted him to exercise.
"I hardly know whether to stay here or to go back to the woods and take refuge in a tree. Some animals may find me here, while I shall be safe if I am only twenty feet above ground."
The vivid recollection of the wolverines gave him this fear and finally induced him to leave the place and seek shelter.
But at the moment of starting he was confronted by an alarming difficulty. He found it impossible to decide upon the proper course to follow, and could not tell with certainty which way led in or out. This resulted from his having turned around several times in his effort to restore warmth and circulation on awaking from his sleep. Had he not done this the position in which he lay during slumber would have told him the truth.
"How strange!" he reflected, vainly seeking to recover from his bewilderment. "If I only had a little light I think I could tell, but this is rather delicate business when I don't know whether I may go over the rocks or not."
He leaned against the wall of the path and thought. At last he believed he knew which way to turn, and facing backward he began to pick his way out. This, we may say, was the right course, and had he only persevered in it would have brought him out of the hills into the woods, restored him to Tim and Howard a few hours later and saved him one of the most momentous experiences of his life.
He had retreated but a few rods when he became sure he had made a mistake and was going wrong. It seemed from his contact with the rocks and the curious windings it made, that he had never passed over the ground, but was advancing further into the hills.
"This will not do," he said aloud, as he paused. "I am astray and must change about."
He did so at once, and believing, of a surety, that he was now upon the right path he walked much faster than was prudent. The truth was, the associations of the plate were such as to make him in a hurry to get away from it. He knew he would feel relieved when he could get once more into the open air of the woods. A strange fear that the overhanging rock would fall or imprison him caused him to hasten still more. After walking some time further he slackened his steps.
"I must be pretty near the opening, judging by the distance I have come; and if such be the case—"
Further words were checked, for at that instant Elwood stepped off the path and went down—down!