CHAPTER XV—A LONELY RIDEThe surprise of the trapper at first made him speechless, as he gazed at his young companion. He had been aware that Reuben had left the camp, but as yet he was without any suspicion that evil had befallen the lad.“Where did you come from? Why are you here?” he demanded slowly, as he advanced to the place where Reuben was standing.“I came because they made me come,” replied the boy somewhat ruefully. “They cut me off in the valley, so I couldn’t get back to the camp, and then they tied me up and made me come.”“You were very good to consent,” replied Kit Carson dryly.“That wasn’t the point,” laughed Reuben, immensely relieved now that he was once more among his friends. “It wasn’t whether I wanted to come, it was simply because I couldn’t get away!”“How far do you think you have come?”“I haven’t any idea. It seems like a long way.”“It’s a hundred miles.”“Whew!” whistled Reuben. “The way we came when we first started made me think that you were close on our heels. I never saw a band go faster than they did, and they kept the horses well together, too. Why didn’t you overtake us?”“The redskins had too good a start. Some of the men thought we ought not to keep on.”“Why not?”“Because they said they were hiding among some of the gulches in the Sierras, and we never would stand any chance of getting them, while there was every chance that they would get us.”“But it has turned out all right,” laughed Reuben. “You have found me and you have got back your horses.”“Yes, and we got some redskins, too,” added the guide quietly. As he spoke he turned toward the place where several of the fallen bodies were lying, and after he had examined every one to make sure that all were lifeless he turned once more to his followers and said: “I don’t think there is much danger of the rascals following us, but at the same time I think we had better start back for camp.”His suggestion was speedily acted upon. The horses of the trappers had travelled so fast and so far that some of them were well-nigh exhausted. In spite of their condition, however, Kit Carson insisted upon the men rapidly withdrawing from the region. Reuben, as a matter of course, had joined the band, his heart lighter, now as he was confident that his troubles were ended. His own pony was in better condition than those of his companions, and it was not difficult for him to maintain the speed at which they were riding.When two hours had elapsed and the sun had disappeared from sight, at the word of Kit Carson the men halted in a narrow ravine, and after guards had been established on each side of the camp, preparations for supper were made speedily.These preparations, however, did not require much time, as the supplies which the men had brought with them had been mostly consumed. Kit Carson and his young companion entered into the nearby region hoping to discover a deer or some birds which they might secure for supper. Their efforts, however, were unavailing, as no signs of any living animal were seen. When they returned to the camp the jerked venison which had provided the diet for the past twenty-four hours was all the food in the possession of the trappers.To Reuben the supper was tempting, because in the swiftness of the flight of his captors they had stopped only twice to eat, although they had halted several times for rest or to discover whether or not their enemies were close upon their trail.Before midnight, at the call of the leader, the men once more rode forward, and driving before them the ponies which they had reclaimed, they resumed their journey toward their camp.No signs of pursuit had been discovered, and the quiet declaration of Carson that the redskins would not attempt to follow them was accepted by all the men as correct. The loss of so many of the warriors—for eight had fallen at the first fire—doubtless had alarmed the Indians, who in their flight were not fully aware of the numbers in the attacking party.On the fourth day the band, with the horses which they had retaken from the Indians, re-entered the camp. Kit Carson and Reuben at the time formed the rear guard, so that they were unable to hear the words of welcome which were given the returning men when first their presence was discovered. In a brief time, however, the shouts were redoubled when the stolen horses were all made secure and the leader and Reuben rejoined their companions.“How did you do it, Kit?” called Jake.“We just kept at it.”“How far did you go?”“Better than one hundred miles.”Jake whistled and said: “We never believed you would keep up. When you didn’t come back at the end of the first day we began to think something must have happened to you and we were going to send a party out to rescue you.”“That was mighty good of you,” replied Kit Carson demurely, “but I’m not in the habit of giving up when I start.”“So it seems,” laughed Jake. “I begin to understand why it is that the men are all willing to follow you.”“Why should we give up?” inquired the scout simply. “We started out to get the horses, didn’t we?”“Yes, but I’ve seen a good many men who were willing to start, but that’s as far as they ever got.”“Well, we started and we came back, and when we came back we had the horses with us. That’s all there is to the story.”The words of Kit Carson, however, belied the feeling of the camp. There was great enthusiasm among the men, who were loud in their praises of the young leader who had followed the fleeing Indians far beyond the regions where they had believed he would be able to make his way or to discover their trail.“It’s all right now, anyway,” said Kit quietly. “I’m ready to turn in for the night.”As soon as the simple supper had been prepared and eaten, all the men in the camp sought their blankets. The horses which had been restored had been hobbled, and the various guards of the camp had been so placed that the approach of any one would be known at once.The following day, after a long conference between the young scout and several of his men, Carson approached Reuben and said: “Do you think you could find your way to San Gabriel if you were to go alone?”“Yes,” replied Reuben quietly. “I am sure I can.”“Through the Sierras?”“Yes, through the mountains. It is a simple path to find.”Kit Carson smiled as he said: “I hope you’ll find it so, because we want to send you back to the mission.”“When am I to go?”“Just as soon as you can get ready to start.”“I shall be ready in five minutes.”“That’s the way to talk,” said the scout quietly. “I’ll tell you what we want just as soon as you are ready.”Within the time which he had allotted for his preparations Reuben had all things in readiness for his departure. He had selected a pony which he was confident would be fleet and sure-footed, and his few belongings had been packed on the back of the faithful animal. Kit Carson handed him a letter, sealed and addressed to “Captain White, at the San Gabriel Mission.”“It is very important,” said Kit Carson in a low voice to Reuben after the latter had mounted his pony. “Come back just as soon as you have an answer. As I told you, it may be that there will be a man who will come with you, but of that I am not sure. At all events you are to look out for yourself, and don’t get caught again by the redskins.”“Do you think I shall meet any?” inquired Reuben, startled by the suggestion.There was a quiet smile on the face of the scout as he said: “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. About all the Indians out here on the coast do is to steal our horses or traps and get away with our skins. Take care of the letter and don’t lose it!”Armed with his rifle, and with provisions sufficient for his journey strapped upon the back of his sturdy little pony, Reuben departed from the camp. The way he was to follow lay for a time among the hills. In the heart of the excited boy there was a feeling of elation that he had been selected for this journey. He was eager to show Kit Carson and his comrades that they could depend upon his coolness and that he would be able to make his way in safety to the old mission and there deliver his message. He was mindful of the heat of the plains and of the length of the journey and consequently he did not urge his pony. At last he found himself among the narrow defiles of the bleak and towering Sierras.It was not difficult for him to retrace the way by which he had come from the old mission the last time he had visited the station. It was now early in the morning, and he was hopeful that before sunset he would once more be among the friendly Indians and the whites who dwelt at San Gabriel.The morning passed without any adventures, and the afternoon sun was waning when at last Reuben entered a defile that was, as he recalled it, several miles long. On his left were stunted growths of trees and the sides of the mountains sloped gently back with the valley. On the opposite side, however, the cliffs were steep and the mighty crags in places hung directly over his pathway. He was following the bed of a stream, which was nearly dry, as the snows had largely disappeared from the slopes of the mountains. The sense of his absolute loneliness was resting more heavily upon him now that he was tired from the long ride.Suddenly the pony stopped and trembled violently in every muscle. An instant later the frightened animal did its utmost to leap forward, and it was only by using all his strength that Reuben was able to restrain him. Then it was that he glanced behind him to discover the cause of the terror of his horse. His own alarm was hardly less when not more than twenty yards behind him he saw the crouching figure of a mountain lion. The savage beast evidently was following him, occasionally seeking the shelter of some huge rock, or climbing among the bushes. It was unusual, however, for such treacherous animals to come into the open, as the one behind him now was doing, and for a moment Reuben was at a loss to account for the tenacity with which the powerful beast had been clinging to his trail.Instantly Reuben raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired. At that very moment, however, his pony, maddened by terror, suddenly leaped forward, and the aim of the young hunter was destroyed. It was plain an instant later that the savage mountain lion was unharmed.
The surprise of the trapper at first made him speechless, as he gazed at his young companion. He had been aware that Reuben had left the camp, but as yet he was without any suspicion that evil had befallen the lad.
“Where did you come from? Why are you here?” he demanded slowly, as he advanced to the place where Reuben was standing.
“I came because they made me come,” replied the boy somewhat ruefully. “They cut me off in the valley, so I couldn’t get back to the camp, and then they tied me up and made me come.”
“You were very good to consent,” replied Kit Carson dryly.
“That wasn’t the point,” laughed Reuben, immensely relieved now that he was once more among his friends. “It wasn’t whether I wanted to come, it was simply because I couldn’t get away!”
“How far do you think you have come?”
“I haven’t any idea. It seems like a long way.”
“It’s a hundred miles.”
“Whew!” whistled Reuben. “The way we came when we first started made me think that you were close on our heels. I never saw a band go faster than they did, and they kept the horses well together, too. Why didn’t you overtake us?”
“The redskins had too good a start. Some of the men thought we ought not to keep on.”
“Why not?”
“Because they said they were hiding among some of the gulches in the Sierras, and we never would stand any chance of getting them, while there was every chance that they would get us.”
“But it has turned out all right,” laughed Reuben. “You have found me and you have got back your horses.”
“Yes, and we got some redskins, too,” added the guide quietly. As he spoke he turned toward the place where several of the fallen bodies were lying, and after he had examined every one to make sure that all were lifeless he turned once more to his followers and said: “I don’t think there is much danger of the rascals following us, but at the same time I think we had better start back for camp.”
His suggestion was speedily acted upon. The horses of the trappers had travelled so fast and so far that some of them were well-nigh exhausted. In spite of their condition, however, Kit Carson insisted upon the men rapidly withdrawing from the region. Reuben, as a matter of course, had joined the band, his heart lighter, now as he was confident that his troubles were ended. His own pony was in better condition than those of his companions, and it was not difficult for him to maintain the speed at which they were riding.
When two hours had elapsed and the sun had disappeared from sight, at the word of Kit Carson the men halted in a narrow ravine, and after guards had been established on each side of the camp, preparations for supper were made speedily.
These preparations, however, did not require much time, as the supplies which the men had brought with them had been mostly consumed. Kit Carson and his young companion entered into the nearby region hoping to discover a deer or some birds which they might secure for supper. Their efforts, however, were unavailing, as no signs of any living animal were seen. When they returned to the camp the jerked venison which had provided the diet for the past twenty-four hours was all the food in the possession of the trappers.
To Reuben the supper was tempting, because in the swiftness of the flight of his captors they had stopped only twice to eat, although they had halted several times for rest or to discover whether or not their enemies were close upon their trail.
Before midnight, at the call of the leader, the men once more rode forward, and driving before them the ponies which they had reclaimed, they resumed their journey toward their camp.
No signs of pursuit had been discovered, and the quiet declaration of Carson that the redskins would not attempt to follow them was accepted by all the men as correct. The loss of so many of the warriors—for eight had fallen at the first fire—doubtless had alarmed the Indians, who in their flight were not fully aware of the numbers in the attacking party.
On the fourth day the band, with the horses which they had retaken from the Indians, re-entered the camp. Kit Carson and Reuben at the time formed the rear guard, so that they were unable to hear the words of welcome which were given the returning men when first their presence was discovered. In a brief time, however, the shouts were redoubled when the stolen horses were all made secure and the leader and Reuben rejoined their companions.
“How did you do it, Kit?” called Jake.
“We just kept at it.”
“How far did you go?”
“Better than one hundred miles.”
Jake whistled and said: “We never believed you would keep up. When you didn’t come back at the end of the first day we began to think something must have happened to you and we were going to send a party out to rescue you.”
“That was mighty good of you,” replied Kit Carson demurely, “but I’m not in the habit of giving up when I start.”
“So it seems,” laughed Jake. “I begin to understand why it is that the men are all willing to follow you.”
“Why should we give up?” inquired the scout simply. “We started out to get the horses, didn’t we?”
“Yes, but I’ve seen a good many men who were willing to start, but that’s as far as they ever got.”
“Well, we started and we came back, and when we came back we had the horses with us. That’s all there is to the story.”
The words of Kit Carson, however, belied the feeling of the camp. There was great enthusiasm among the men, who were loud in their praises of the young leader who had followed the fleeing Indians far beyond the regions where they had believed he would be able to make his way or to discover their trail.
“It’s all right now, anyway,” said Kit quietly. “I’m ready to turn in for the night.”
As soon as the simple supper had been prepared and eaten, all the men in the camp sought their blankets. The horses which had been restored had been hobbled, and the various guards of the camp had been so placed that the approach of any one would be known at once.
The following day, after a long conference between the young scout and several of his men, Carson approached Reuben and said: “Do you think you could find your way to San Gabriel if you were to go alone?”
“Yes,” replied Reuben quietly. “I am sure I can.”
“Through the Sierras?”
“Yes, through the mountains. It is a simple path to find.”
Kit Carson smiled as he said: “I hope you’ll find it so, because we want to send you back to the mission.”
“When am I to go?”
“Just as soon as you can get ready to start.”
“I shall be ready in five minutes.”
“That’s the way to talk,” said the scout quietly. “I’ll tell you what we want just as soon as you are ready.”
Within the time which he had allotted for his preparations Reuben had all things in readiness for his departure. He had selected a pony which he was confident would be fleet and sure-footed, and his few belongings had been packed on the back of the faithful animal. Kit Carson handed him a letter, sealed and addressed to “Captain White, at the San Gabriel Mission.”
“It is very important,” said Kit Carson in a low voice to Reuben after the latter had mounted his pony. “Come back just as soon as you have an answer. As I told you, it may be that there will be a man who will come with you, but of that I am not sure. At all events you are to look out for yourself, and don’t get caught again by the redskins.”
“Do you think I shall meet any?” inquired Reuben, startled by the suggestion.
There was a quiet smile on the face of the scout as he said: “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble. About all the Indians out here on the coast do is to steal our horses or traps and get away with our skins. Take care of the letter and don’t lose it!”
Armed with his rifle, and with provisions sufficient for his journey strapped upon the back of his sturdy little pony, Reuben departed from the camp. The way he was to follow lay for a time among the hills. In the heart of the excited boy there was a feeling of elation that he had been selected for this journey. He was eager to show Kit Carson and his comrades that they could depend upon his coolness and that he would be able to make his way in safety to the old mission and there deliver his message. He was mindful of the heat of the plains and of the length of the journey and consequently he did not urge his pony. At last he found himself among the narrow defiles of the bleak and towering Sierras.
It was not difficult for him to retrace the way by which he had come from the old mission the last time he had visited the station. It was now early in the morning, and he was hopeful that before sunset he would once more be among the friendly Indians and the whites who dwelt at San Gabriel.
The morning passed without any adventures, and the afternoon sun was waning when at last Reuben entered a defile that was, as he recalled it, several miles long. On his left were stunted growths of trees and the sides of the mountains sloped gently back with the valley. On the opposite side, however, the cliffs were steep and the mighty crags in places hung directly over his pathway. He was following the bed of a stream, which was nearly dry, as the snows had largely disappeared from the slopes of the mountains. The sense of his absolute loneliness was resting more heavily upon him now that he was tired from the long ride.
Suddenly the pony stopped and trembled violently in every muscle. An instant later the frightened animal did its utmost to leap forward, and it was only by using all his strength that Reuben was able to restrain him. Then it was that he glanced behind him to discover the cause of the terror of his horse. His own alarm was hardly less when not more than twenty yards behind him he saw the crouching figure of a mountain lion. The savage beast evidently was following him, occasionally seeking the shelter of some huge rock, or climbing among the bushes. It was unusual, however, for such treacherous animals to come into the open, as the one behind him now was doing, and for a moment Reuben was at a loss to account for the tenacity with which the powerful beast had been clinging to his trail.
Instantly Reuben raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired. At that very moment, however, his pony, maddened by terror, suddenly leaped forward, and the aim of the young hunter was destroyed. It was plain an instant later that the savage mountain lion was unharmed.