Chapter 38. Besieged

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_ CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. BESIEGED

Not a word was said then for some minutes, during which the glass was passed from one to the other, and long, excited looks taken at the strong body of bronze, half-nude warriors seated upon their ponies close to the edge of the flat-topped range of cliffs, some four or five hundred feet above the bottom of the depression.

The Indians were evidently looking down at something in front of the ranges of openings which formed the old-world city, and it took no thinking, after the party were once confident that they were not seen, to decide what it was that took the attention of the roving tribe.

It was Chris who repeated Wilton's words.

"They're watching the mules and ponies," he said. "I saw one fellow point at them when I had the glass to my eyes."

"And that is as good as saying that they are watching us," said Ned sadly.

"Oh no," cried the doctor. "They can see some beasts grazing in this verdant bottom; they can't tell at this distance that they are not wild."

"Why, father," said Chris, "they have been hunting us for long enough."

"My dear boy, do you suppose that there is only one roving band of Indians in all these thousands of square miles of wild country?"

"I--I--don't know, father," was the reply.

"Then you may take it as highly probable that these are not the Indians we saw before."

"But they know that the mules and ponies are tame."

"How, when they are nearly half-a-mile away? There is neither bridle nor saddle to be seen."

"Oh no, of course not," said Chris, brightening up. "Then, after having a good look at them, the band will ride right away."

"That is doubtful," said the doctor gravely.

"Why, they can't get down there."

"No, but they can make a long _detour_ and get down to the gulch, and then make their way into the depression and capture us all, men and boys, ponies and mules."

"Oh!" ejaculated Chris. Then quickly, "How long will it take them to get round?"

"I wish I knew, my boy," said the doctor sadly. "We ought to have explored the gulch and seen how it was connected with the tableland yonder. But there, it is of no use to regret the past; we must think about the present."

"Yes," grunted Griggs, and his voice roused the doctor into action.

"What do you say, Griggs?" he cried. "My idea is to wait till the enemy--I suppose we must look upon them as the enemy--have gone out of sight, and that we then load up and retreat as fast as we can."

"Too late," said Griggs gruffly; "we may come right upon them."

"Yes, if they make their way to the mouth of the gulch. They may be content with seeing that there is a herd of strange animals here, and then ride away."

"Some folk might," said Griggs quietly, "but not Indians."

"Then what do you think will be best?"

"Drive the animals up to the other end of the place, and then take possession of a couple of the rooms here in the face of the rocks, stop up the shaft, and keep the enemy at bay with our rifles."

The doctor frowned.

"It may be a false alarm," he said.

"Yes, may be," said Griggs; "but I don't believe it is, sir. Don't you go and think that I want to fight. Nothing of the kind, but I'm afraid we shall have to. Why, we could keep all that lot at bay for any length of time."

"But it would be desperate work."

"Yes, sir, they'd make us desperate; but it would be their own doing. We could bring up our provisions into the chamber nearest the water, and command it with our rifles so that they couldn't get to it. They've only got to leave us alone and there'd be no desperate work."

"But they may be friendly Indians."

"I never heard of any out in these wilds, sir," said Griggs grimly.

"But they might be friendly," said Bourne eagerly.

"So much the better, sir. Then there'd be no harm done. I'd trust the Indians up north so long as they were not on the warpath, but I shouldn't like to trust any of these."

"Then you'd prepare for the worst?"

"That's the only way to deal with these people, sir," said the American sternly. "If they see that we're weak they'll take our mules and ponies, and perhaps our lives--at once. If they take our animals and leave us alone they've taken our lives all the same, for we could never reach civilisation again without our beasts."

"No," said the doctor firmly. "I should have liked to retreat if we could."

"We couldn't do it," said Wilton sharply, as he took his eyes from the glass. "There would not be time, and if we could get away they'd follow our trail and take us at a disadvantage, for certain."

"Yes," said the doctor; "there is no other chance. As you suggest, Griggs, if they find us strong they will fear us. We must decide at once which of the cells we will hold, and get our stores there as quickly as possible."

"That is already settled, sir," said the American coolly. "We must hold the place where we can reach the water, and the lowest floor here is the one."

"You are confident, then, that they couldn't get at us from above?"

"Quite, sir. The attack, if it comes, will be from below, as it was made once before."

Chris and Ned exchanged glances as they recalled all that they had seen and the result to the defenders, and a blank look of despair settled in their countenances.

As it happened the doctor was watching them keenly at the time, his breast full of anxiety for the lads about to be brought face to face with such grave peril, and he spoke out cheerfully as if in answer to the thoughts he had just read in their faces.

"Yes," he said, "but you forget. Those people had to defend themselves with stones. We have the best of modern firearms, and can deal out death and destruction to our enemies from a distance while we are sheltered and quite beyond their reach. Well, Wilton, what do you make out?"

"They are all gathered closely together, pretty well a hundred strong," was the reply, "and one man--the chief, I suppose--is haranguing the rest. He keeps on gesticulating and pointing down at the mules, and then waving his hands in different directions as if to show which way they ought to go."

"Well," said the doctor, "we must not stir until they move off. They evidently have not seen us, and they may after all believe the animals to be wild."

"Yes, sir; and it's no use to show ourselves till we are obliged. We'll drive the beasts right up the valley here as soon as the coast's clear, and then keep in hiding and try what a shot or two from where they don't show will act. If we bring down a man and a horse or two they may turn back in a state of superstitious panic. It's a good deal to hope for, but it might turn out so."

"At any rate it's the best plan," said the doctor. "So be ready to act as soon as the enemy disappears, and then we must pray for time."

Indian palavers are long and tedious, and the chief addressing the tribe talked for long enough, and was succeeded, so Wilton reported, by others, during all which time the watchers kept carefully out of sight and waited in a state of suspense that was almost unbearable.

"At last!" cried the doctor, as the body of horsemen began to move off. "Watch them carefully, Wilton, and see if you can make out how they are armed."

"That's plain enough," said the member of the party addressed; "they nearly all have long spears."

"That means bows and arrows as well, I should say," cried Griggs. "Indians who carry spears have not learned to use rifles, as a rule. Hah! There they go, riding straight back from the edge. I shouldn't wonder if they have a long distance to go, right back over a plain, before they can get round the mountains. They must come by the same gulch as we did, and perhaps they've got to find it first."

"Think so?" said Bourne, putting the question that was on Chris's lips. "They may be thoroughly acquainted with all this place."

"It's just as likely that they've never looked down into it before," said Griggs. "They belong to a roving band, and the country here is very big."

"Ah, there goes the last of them," cried Wilton, closing and shutting up the glasses.

"Give them a few minutes' law," cried the doctor, "just to make sure that they have gone. Then down to the camp as quickly as possible, load up, and bring everything up to the foot of the slope, unload, and I'll drive the poor brutes up to the other end while you folks get the stores under cover."

"But suppose the enemy come while you are away doing the driving?" cried Chris excitedly.

"We'll suppose nothing of the sort, my boy," said the doctor sternly. Then with a pleasant smile, "If they do come while I'm away you'll all have to cover me with your rifles while I fight my way back. Now then, time's up. Down with you, and away."

As soon as they could get clear of the ruins there was a rush made for the camp, the grazing animals being driven before them to where the stores were heaped, and going quietly enough, associating the sacks and barrels with feeding-time, though fated to be neglected!

The stores once reached, hot and nervous work began, in which Chris had no share, his duty being to mount his mustang and act the part of scout.

His instructions were very few; he knew what to do. That was to ride back to the gulch, and select a good spot, one which combined two advantages, commanding a far-reaching view down the wild approach, while affording good cover and concealment for him.

He started at once, riding off and giving two good long earnest looks at the busy party placing their loads on the mules' backs.

Then a turn amongst the rocks hid him from sight, and the boy felt his heart sink, in spite of the way in which he braced himself up for his task, for the gulch looked more and more dark and forbidding as he rode on, the sides closed in closer, it seemed, than they had been when he came, and as he strained his eyes forward along the trackless way, bush after bush and rock after rock in the distance sent his heart, as it were, with a bound to his throat, so nearly did his imagination make these objects approach the aspect of savage Indians riding slowly towards him.

But a second glance generally resolved them into what they were, fancy paintings, and he bit his lips fiercely with annoyance as he called himself coward and one quite unfit for such a task.

He had ridden onward for some time before he found a post that seemed in any way suitable, for the gulch turned and doubled and zigzagged here and there in a way that gave him sadly shortened views, and he was at last about to turn back to the best place he had passed, bad as it was, when he recognised a corner in front as being formed by a rock that he remembered seeing for long enough on their approach, one that never seemed to get any nearer, and to his joy when he now reached it he found everything he desired--command of the gulch for quite a mile, plenty of cover to hide him and his pony from the view of those who came along, and, what was very acceptable then, a tiny basin of pure cold water in which his mustang gladly plunged its muzzle for a long, deep drink.

Then with a sigh of relief the scout took up his position to watch for the coming danger, knowing as he did that he had only to draw back a few yards for the great elbow-like rock to cover his retreat so that he could hurry away with the warning of danger and give all time to seek the cells that they were to defend.

"They ought to have loaded up by now," he said to himself, "and all has turned out splendidly, while perhaps after all the Indians may never find this deep, dark gulch. It was only by accident that we did."

Chris had just comforted himself with this notion when a horrible thought assailed him. It was this--

All the way he came he had been keeping up a good lookout in front for the approaching danger, and had never once thought of looking up to right or left for some narrow side valley or gash by which the danger might suddenly descend into the narrow way.

The thought was so terrible that he turned cold and looked back, half-expecting to see a group of the bronze warriors in his rear; and then his too busy imagination pictured more, the whole band in fact riding down by the gash in the rocks that he ought to have seen, and stealthily coming on to surprise those whom it had been his duty to save.

For some minutes his fancy gained ground to such an extent that the boy was completely unnerved. And no wonder, for the gloom of the great gulch with its perpendicular sides towering up to a vast height, the solitary grandeur, the silence, and the oppression wrought by the tremendous nature of his task, began to be more than his young nature could bear.

For some little time he sank into a state of despair. To use his own words, in which he thought of his brain power as something mechanical that had been wound up, his head seemed as if it would not "go."

In fact, to use a homely phrase, he was so prostrated by the thought that, in spite of his care and the stern duties of the task that he had been set to do, he had passed some side opening by which the Indians might come down and attack the unarmed camp, that he wanted "shaking up" to bring him to himself.

He had that very shaking up literally, for all at once his pony stretched out its neck, spread its legs widely, and gave itself a violent shake, one which threatened to dislodge the saddle before the beast subsided, and Chris settled himself again in his seat.

"It's all fancy," he said to himself; "I must have seen such a gorge or ravine if there had been one. The Indians must come along here in front. Mounted men can't ride down precipitous slopes."

With this thought to comfort him the boy sat watching the open part in front from his cover, perfectly satisfied that the only portions of him visible to a coming enemy were his face and hat, while to add to his protection, in case any of the Indians' advance-guard should suddenly ride into sight, Chris dismounted, cut a few tufts of heather-like brush, and stuck them at random through the band of his soft felt covering.

"There," he said in a satisfied way, as he replaced his hat, "that will look at a distance as if it were growing. I've a good mind to rub my face with mud."

Whether he would have so disfigured himself is doubtful, but certainly he could not, for there was no mud, nothing but a little beautifully clean sand in the bottom of the rock-pool into which the falling water splashed.

So Chris sat there thinking and straining his eyes along the narrow gulch, seeing no Indians, but the bright light on the tops of the rocky sides, while the gulch itself, always gloomy, now began to darken as if it were being gradually filled up with a flood of black velvet in a liquid state.

The pony dropped its head more and more; not to browse, for the bit held him a prisoner from that, but because it was an easy position, and in the silence Chris listened to the heavy breathing of the animal and felt the action of its sides as they rose and sank.

"They ought to have got all the stores into the cells by this time," thought Chris. "I wish I could have helped. It seems so lazy just sitting here. But of course it makes them feel safer. But what a horrible nuisance it is for Indians to be coming to disturb us. I hope it won't come to a fight. How horrible to have to shoot them!--Much more horrible for them to shoot us."

Chris's thoughts became less active, and then concentrated themselves upon the extremity of his eye scope, where he believed that he saw a mounted man standing where there was nothing before.

"Pooh! Only a rock," muttered the boy, after a long and careful inspection. "But how fast it's getting dark. I shan't be able to see any enemy soon, and what am I to do then, for I shan't be able to see anything at all? Why, nothing was said about that," he thought, "not a word. I didn't think about being in such a position, and I'm sure father didn't, or he would have spoken. Now, what would he say to me, I wonder? Something about using my own discretion and acting for the best. Now, what would be the best?"

Chris set his teeth and thought hard so as to decide what would be the proper thing to do.

"Why, it's all simple enough," he said to himself at last. "I'm posted here to give them warning when the Indians are coming. Well, if it's too dark for me to see them coming I can't give any notice, and if I can't do what I'm sent here for I should be better back at the camp."

He looked along the gloomy gulch to see that the light was gone from the crags that shut-in the narrow way, while the bottom of the gulch was black with shadow, so dark that any one approaching would have been perfectly invisible.

"Yes," he said to himself, "it's of no use for me to stay here. I can't see anything, and if the savages rode up it would be too late to try to give warning. I'll go back."

But he did not stir, only sat thinking in a fresh groove.

"Father won't think me cowardly, will he?"

That was a horrible idea, one which made the boy's cheeks burn for a minute, until his common-sense told him that no such injustice could fall to his lot.

"Of course not," he argued. "I was sent here to do my best. I've done my best, and now I can do no more. I say, how black it is," he said half-aloud, and then he felt blank, faced as he was by another difficulty--how was he going to get back along the trackless path encumbered with stones and with rifts and tufts of very thorny bushes here and there?

It was a poser.

There was a dull streak of sky overhead, in which a star here and there could be seen blinking and looking pale.

"I can't see beyond the pony's head," thought Chris. "Why, it's madness to try and ride along a place like this; but it's horrible to think of sitting here all night, and one couldn't go to sleep. I'm so hungry too, and--Oh, I say, who'd ever have thought of this? What a mess I'm in!"

There was nothing approaching despair in the boy's feelings then, neither was there anything akin to fear, unless it was a dread of being suddenly pounced upon by the Indians now.

This thought had quite a comic side to it, and he laughed softly.

"They'd be precious clever--ten times as clever as they're said to be, with their wonderful sight and hearing--if they did pounce upon me now. Why, look at that."

It was rather an absurd order which he gave himself, as he stretched out his right-hand at the level of his eye, for to all intents and purposes there was no hand to look at, while as to his pony's ears, he certainly knew that they were somewhere in front, but that was all.

"Oh, I say," he sighed, "I am in a mess, and no mistake! If I'd had any gumption in this thick old head I should have slipped a damper cake in my pocket. But who was going to think of eating at a time like that? Perhaps Ned would," he added, with a soft chuckle; and the idea was so mirthful that he shook a little, but only to grow serious directly.

"There," he said, "I've done my duty, I'm sure, and though I'm in such a hobble things have turned out capitally, and they've had plenty of time to get our cliff castle fortified and stored. That's splendid, and I won't fidget about the Indians, for they can't come till to-morrow, and perhaps they'll never come at all. But I say, this is coming to search for the old gold city! I believe I'd rather have stopped at the plantation killing blight and scratching the scale insects off the peach-twigs. Here, I say, old chap!"

He addressed this to the pony, but there was no suggestion of his address having been heard, so obeying a sudden impulse he dropped out of the saddle, readjusted the sling of his rifle, and then tightened the saddle-girths before going to the pony's head, to feel the head-stall all over, and stroke and pat the little cob-like animal's neck, ending by passing its ears through his hand, and then passing the back against the velvety muzzle, with the result that his companion whinnied with satisfaction.

"Now, old chap," he said, "we've got to get home, and I may as well be honest. I can't guide you, and I'll let you have your head all the way, and make you up a nice mash of meal in one of the buckets when we get there for a reward. Think you can do it?"

"Yes," said the boy, after a pause; "silence gives consent, as I once read somewhere. Now, which shall I do, ride or lead you? I shall ride, for if I lead you it will be all a sham, and I shall only be getting you into difficulties. So there: I'll trust you. Take your time. Want any water?"

The boy pulled the little animal's head towards where he believed the water to be, but it did not stretch out its neck, so he mounted again.

"Now then," he said, "back to camp."

The pony started at once, but Chris drew rein.

"No, no; that won't do. That's right, turn round. We don't want to go any farther to-night. Now then, steady. Don't fall and pitch me over your head. The way's right on, and you can't go off right or left. _Ck_! That's right. When you feel in doubt about a stone or hole or a bush, stop short and I'll get down and feel about for you.--Well done!"

This last was in admiration, for without the slightest hesitation the pony had set off, pacing steadily back along the way they had come, but with its head very low-down, as Chris realised by the steady draw that had been given at the reins.

"Talk about eyes," muttered Chris, "why, they're microscopes. I say, though, I mustn't go to sleep. I believe I could without falling off. It wouldn't be fair, though, for I ought to let him hear my voice now and then."

All the same Chris was perfectly silent, and spent his time gazing hard upward at the long jagged ribbon of black purple, now gemmed with brilliant stars, which spread along overhead. From time to time he looked forward to try and make out obstacles in front, but he could see nothing; there was naught to do but listen to the pony's footsteps and think of what they were doing at camp and what they would be saying about his non-return.

"Father won't go to sleep to-night," said Chris, with a sigh of satisfaction caused by the idea. "He'll be awake and listening for my pony's steps, and--Oh, how far must it be?

"A good many yards less than it was a minute ago, and it's getting a shorter distance with every step my mustang takes."

And onward they went, cheerfully enough, through the black darkness at the bottom of the gulch, the pony never failing, never setting hoof in hole nor stumbling over stone or bush. It stopped for a moment now and then to turn aside or to make sure of some difficulty which needed an outstretched neck, a touch with the muzzle, or a sigh; but otherwise it travelled on slowly but surely through the earlier part of the night, while Chris thought till he could think no longer, and began to ride with his shoulders up, his chin in his chest, and a tendency to bow right down upon his mount's neck. But he never did that once, only clung with a dreamy feeling of safety, with his knees against the saddle-flaps and his feet fast in the stirrups.

"I must not go to sleep," he muttered once; but he did all the same, instinctively tightening his hold by means of his abnormally-strained muscles the while. _

Read next: Chapter 39. Among The Hornets

Read previous: Chapter 37. In The Old Stronghold

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