CHAPTER XX.SMOKED OUT.
What Ned had said appalled them all. The situation had seemed peculiar and distressing before, because they could not see far enough ahead to even guess how it might turn out; it became positively terrifying now.
They had heard some of the punchers speak about the powerful agency of the weed mentioned by the scout master. One man had told how it was often used to force wolves from their rocky dens. When set to smouldering, it produced a smoke that was quite irresistible, and which overpowered man or beast.
“Why can’t we find a way to keep it out of the cave?” Jack presently demanded, when they found themselves rubbing their eyes, in spite of themselves, and beginning to feel half choked in the bargain.
“The opening is too wide to think of closing it, more’s the pity,” Harry answered, with deep regret in his voice.
“And even then we couldn’t keep the smoke out,” Ned told them; “because we’d have to get air, and where that can enter the smoke could too.”
“This is sure the worst deal I ever struck!” gasped Jimmy. “It takes your breath away like fun, and makes you think your eyes are bored in your head. They call it by the right name, I tell you, for it certainly does smell rank. Whew! somebody fan me, or I’ll go under.”
Nobody took the trouble to oblige Jimmy. The fact was they all felt it just as badly as the freckled-faced scout; and each fellow was trying the best he knew how to get temporary relief.
“How’s it going to end, Ned?” asked Jack, and his voice sounded very queer, for he was talking between his teeth, not wishing to open his mouth wider than he could possibly help.
“One of two ways,” returned the scout master, gloomily.
“You mean we’ll just have to hoist the white rag and give up?” continued Jack, in deep disgust.
“Either that or be overcome here; and nobody wants to let that happen, because some of us might suffocate. Anything would be better than that, it strikes me,” was what the leader told Jack.
“What if we rushed out and started to fight our way through?” suggested Harry, who had been listening to what his comrades said; and the surprise of it all was that he, the peace-loving member of the little band, should so suddenly display such ferocity; but then it could be laid to the terrible fumes that were driving them all nearly distracted.
Ned shook his head, though, of course, none of them saw this, for it was next door to dark under the protecting ledge, and particularly in the little cave that Nature had scooped out of the solid rock.
“It would be useless,” he told them.
“Yes, I reckon they’re all ready to meet us with a hot fire and some of us would go under,” Harry admitted, sadly. “But we can’t stand this much longer, Ned. Oh! if only there was another opening to the cave, how fine it would be to slip out and leave them doing their grand smoking act.”
“But there isn’t, I’m sorry to say,” admitted Ned. “I took the trouble to explore it through and through, and there’s not the first chance to find another crack.”
“Have you any plan, Ned?” pleaded Jimmy, who was choking at a terrible rate and seemed half-blinded already.
“Only a half-way idea,” replied Ned. “Here it is for what it’s worth. Three of us will surrender, by walking out and shouting that we give in. Jack must manage to hide somewhere in here and stand for it a little while longer. There’s just the smallest chance going that they’ll skip him; and, if it happens, he can hang around and help us out later.”
“I’m afraid it won’t work, Ned; because they must have seen that there were just four in our bunch, all told; and they’ll never be happy till they root me out,” was the opinion Jack expressed.
“All the same it may be worth trying,” Ned declared; “and even if you’re found out we can be no worse off than if we all gave up. This is a case that needs quick action.”
“Then just as you say, Ned, we’ll try it,” Jack agreed. “I’ll see if I can stand this rank smell a little while longer. Perhaps it may seem so bad that none of the rustlers’ll care to crawl in and look around. You can kind of give them to understand that one of your crowd has keeled over earlier in the fight. There’s just a little hope it may pan out. Now, for goodness’ sake get a move on as soon as you can. I’ll find a place behind some loose stones to lie down and play dead. Hope when the time comes for me to crawl out I won’t be too weak to move.”
Each of the other scouts squeezed Jack’s hand. He was a prime favorite in the troop, and they disliked leaving him behind more than they could tell; but there seemed little choice and Jack was always so willing to sacrifice himself for the good of others.
Ned took the lead.
“Keep close behind me,” he told Harry and Jimmy, as they started to crawl over to where they knew the exit must be; for the smoke was now getting so dense that even the faint light was shut out.
Reaching this place Ned shouted, though he found himself so hoarse that he hardly knew his own voice; and several times choked, as though he was close to the border of having a fit.
“Hello! hello out there! we want to surrender! We’re choking, and can’t stand it any longer. Don’t fire on us, and we’ll come out! Hello! hello!”
There came an answering hail, close at hand.
“All right, come along, but be sure and hold your hands up over yer heads, or you might get hurt! understand that, kids?”
“Yes we’re nearly all in! Here we come!”
With that Ned led the way, and staggering weakly, the three scouts groped their passage through the haze of bitter smoke toward the faint gleam of daylight that they could begin to see through the pall.
While they were still engulfed in this mantle they felt their guns rudely jerked from their hands and fierce clutches taken upon their garments. But the relief was so great when they reached the blessed air in the canyon, almost free from the acrid fumes of that terrible stink weed, that for the moment they could think of nothing else.
Each of them stood there, blinking, and rubbing their smarting eyes. Rude laughter jarred on their nerves, and they began to observe that a circle of lawless punchers stood around, apparently quite amused at the sight of their agony.
“Seems ter me thar was four o’ the tenderfeet kids; how ’bout that, Ally?” one of the rustlers observed in a voice that sounded like the grumble of thunder.
Ned managed to look at the speaker, and he just seemed to know without being told that this giant must be the “awful dad” of the lad Amos, whom they had helped out of the quicksand. He was indeed a striking figure, and must inspire terror in almost any man who happened to run counter to his will. When Hy Adams growled his dislike for anything, plans were apt to be hastily changed, and in a fashion calculated to suit his whim.
There was another alongside who caught Ned’s especial attention, too. He had only to take note of the fact that this tall party bore a scar on his left cheek to feel confident that this must be the rustler chief, Clem Parsons, who had played fast and loose with the United States Government, so that his apprehension by the Secret Service officers was apt to put quite a feather in the cap of the one fortunate enough to cause his arrest.
“There was four of ’em,” Ally Sloper observed, as he pushed forward at this juncture and faced the prisoners; and raising his voice he turned to Ned and added: “Where’d that other feller skip out to? Was he knocked over by our fire? We know that he never got away, we had the canyon blocked with a cork in the neck of the bottle.”
“We’ve lost him, somehow,” Ned replied, brokenly, as though deeply grieved by the fact; “and we hope you’ll look around and find our chum, who may be bleeding to death somewhere in the canyon behind a rock.”
His eagerness to have them search seemed to allay any suspicion that may have started to arise.
“Oh! we’ll give a sort of look when we’re getting out of this hole,” the man Ned took to be Clem Parsons observed carelessly; “but it’s too unpleasant around these diggings right now to stay any longer than we have to. Later on, if we happen to think of it, we may come back and look him up. Get a move on now, boys, and we’ll strike for the upper camp.”
Those who had hold of the three prisoners urged them forward, and it was evident that they meant to leave the vicinity of the recent fight. When Ned was sure of this he allowed himself to have a most violent fit of coughing, and managed to mix in several significant signals that were not unlike the howl of the wolf in the stillness of a night on the open plain.
This he knew must be heard by the suffering scout inside the cave. It would tell Jack they were going, and that he could immediately make a start looking toward relief from the overpowering fumes.
Ned would have been better satisfied could he have received a return sign from the devoted chum, to assure him all was well; but of course that was utterly out of the question. He could only hope that dear old Jack would not by this time have become so weak from his sufferings as to be unable to make his crawl out to the pure air, and then follow after them.
The three scouts looked quite dejected at first. They were so accustomed to having things come their way that this thing of being made prisoners galled them. Jimmy in particular bewailed the circumstances attending their capture. He seemed to think that it was next door to a disgrace because they had not been able to put up a desperate resistance, and at least disable several of the foe before yielding to superior force.
“’Tis a shame, that’s what it is,” he kept on muttering, grimly, “to have to put up your hands like we did without knockin’ the stuffin’ out of a few of the enemy. I’ll never be able to look myself in the face again, sure I won’t.”
“Oh! yes you will, Jimmy,” Harry assured him; “I expect to live to see the time when you sit beside a fire, gobbling your rasher of bacon and fried potatoes, and telling the story of this adventure to some of the other boys in the troop.”
“Now, that’s adding insult to injury!” declared Jimmy, sadly; “when you go and make my mouth water tellin’ about breakfast stuff. Chances are they’ll try to starve us while they hold the lot for ransom.”
Ned gave him a punch in the side when he said this.
“Let up on that kind of talk, Jimmy,” he whispered sternly; “don’t put the notion in their heads. If they once knew who Harry was, and what he came out here to do, they’d think up some scheme to get even with Colonel Job. Even Ally Sloper didn’t hear what our mission was, and thinks we’re just on the plains to have a good time. And keep up your spirits. Leave it to Jack; he’s our best hope just now.”
They were walking by themselves at the time, the rustlers forming a sort of cordon around them though separated by a dozen or two feet; and hence the scouts found an opportunity to exchange a few remarks in whispers without being overheard.
After that Harry and Jimmy did pluck up a little more hope. So long as Jack was free to move around they might expect assistance, though none of them could give more than a vague guess what shape it might take. Jack was to decide upon his own course. He might think it best to follow them up, and then, after seeing where the cattle thieves had their secret camp, make his way back to where the ponies had been left, mount, and head for the ranch at top speed in order to bring a rescue party to their relief.
How they hugged that hope to their hearts as they climbed upward after those of their captors who were in the van. Ned was wideawake all the while. He believed that Jack must surely follow them, and in order to make his task as easy as possible the scout master was trying in every way he knew how to leave plain indications of their having passed along this way.
All this had to be done in a fashion calculated not to attract the attention of the rustlers. If they realized that he was purposely turning over stones every now and then by pretending to stumble, they would know what this implied; consequently the rustlers would lay a trap for the comrade who was expected to follow; and hence Jack, when coming creeping along the trail, might walk into an ambush, so that he too be taken prisoner.
An hour passed, and all of the scouts were becoming very weary of climbing, much against their will, when indications ahead told them they must be getting close to the rustlers’ camp.
It was hidden in the most isolated part of the mountain range, and where there did not seem to be one chance in ten that any cow puncher would ever stray in search of lost steers. Faint wreaths of smoke first told the sharp-eyed Ned that the camp was near by; then he heard a dog bark, and a horse neigh, as well as sounds very similar to the rattle of steers’ horns when being driven from one pasturage to another.
Ten minutes later and they were walking into the camp. They boys observed everything closely, for they never expected to again find themselves in the midst of a gang of reckless rustlers, and it was their policy to “make hay while the sun shone.”
Strange to say they had not been searched up to now for any valuables, though the man who was leader of the rustlers had looked to make sure they were not armed with any weapons besides their rifles and hunting knives, both of which had been taken away from them.
Harry wished now he had thought to ask Jack to lend him his little camera, for the spectacle of that camp was one they must often wish to remember in future days. Still, as those who dwelt in the heart of the mountains were mostly fugitives from justice, it was hardly likely they would permit any one to snap off a picture that must prove of value to the officers who were often looking for them far and wide.
The afternoon was pretty well done by now. Had their original plans been carried out the boys would have been entering camp by this time. Instead they found themselves in one of the most distressing situations in their career; prisoners among the lawless rustlers, who must know that much of their recent defeat was due to the coming of these Boy Scouts to the cattle ranch bordering the Colorado country.