In the Hands of the Cave-Dwellers by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER V
AN INDIAN RAID
The time passed very pleasantly; Will had become a great favourite withboth Senor Sarasta and his wife, and was treated as one of the family.Donna Clara often accompanied the party on horseback, and when her firstshyness with Will had worn off, he found that she was lively andhigh-spirited. Accustomed to horses from her infancy, she was anadmirable rider, and, although both Juan and Will were mounted on someof the best horses on the ranch, she could leave them behind on herfavourite mare, a beautiful creature that she herself had broken in. Atthe end of three months Will felt that, much as he was enjoying himself,he must not outstay his welcome; but, upon his broaching the subject ofleaving, the whole family protested so indignantly against such an idea,that he felt they really desired him to stay with them. Juan spoke tohim on the subject as soon as they started on horseback together thatafternoon.
"The idea of your leaving us is altogether preposterous, Will; do youthink that we should for a moment let you go? Where, indeed, would yougo? What ideas have you in your mind? Are you not one of us completely?"
"You are awfully good to me; I was never so happy in my life," Willreplied, "but there is reason in all things; I cannot spend my lifehere. I must be doing something for my living. As I told you, I do notwant to return home until I can say to my father, I have been a success,I require no favours, and am in a position to keep myself."
"I understand that," Juan said, "but how do you propose doing it?"
"I should do it somehow. I can at least ride now, and have more ways ofmaking a living open to me than I had before."
"My dear Will, you are talking nonsense, and if you suppose that we aregoing to let you go out into the world in that sort of way you arealtogether mistaken. At any rate, leave the matter alone for thepresent; we may see our way more clearly in time;" and had Will happenedto glance at his companion's face, he would have been puzzled by theslight smile that glanced across it.
Two months later all hands were busy on the ranch. It was the season atwhich the herds were weeded out, the old bulls and some of the youngones slaughtered, skinned, and boiled down. Will only once accompaniedSenor Sarasta and Juan to the scene of operations. He was interested inthe Indians, who, with their squaws and young ones, had come down andestablished a camp of their own. They were free to take as much meat asthey pleased, not only for eating, but for drying for futureconsumption; broad, thin slices of flesh were cut up and hung on ropesbetween poles to dry in the sun. Three days sufficed for the operation.The meat, now almost as hard as leather, was pounded by the womenbetween heavy stones, and then mixed with a little salt and packedtightly in bags made of skins. In this state it would keep for anindefinite time. Will Harland often went there, but could not be inducedto approach the spot where the animals were slaughtered. He was muchrallied by Senor Sarasta and Juan on what they called hisfaint-heartedness.
"I admit all you say," he replied. "I don't mind going into a fightmyself, but I cannot stand seeing those poor brutes killed. I know thatit is necessary, and that your vaqueros do it almost instantaneously; atthe same time, it is not necessary for me to see it. I would very muchrather stay away and watch the natives, with the shrivelled old women,and the funny little papooses."
Clara nodded approvingly. "You are quite right, Don William," foralthough the others all, like Juan, called him simply by his Christianname, Clara still continued the more formal mode of address. "I never gonear the yard myself when it is going on."
"Ah! it is one thing for a girl not to like it," Juan said, "but forWill, whom I have seen as cool as possible when his life was in danger,and who fired at a man as steadily as if he had been shooting at atarget, it seems odd. However, one does not go to see the animalskilled; no one can take pleasure in that. The interest lies in the skilland courage of the vaqueros, who are constantly risking their lives;and, indeed, there is scarcely a season passes in which one or two ofthem are not killed."
The work occupied nearly a month; then Juan started with his father forSan Diego, where the formal betrothal of the former was to take place.At this his father's presence was necessary, and the latter would makehis usual arrangements for chartering a ship to go down to receive thehides and skins full of tallow at the mouth of the river. Will had againproposed that he should accompany them and say good-bye to them there.As before, his proposal was scoffed at.
"It will be time enough to think of that when I go down three monthshence to be married," Juan said; "and now you must take our placeshere, and look after my mother and sister. You will have to play thepart of my younger brother, and keep things straight. When we come back,we will have a serious talk about the future."
Will was indeed now quite at home in the work of the ranch, and notinfrequently rode in one direction to give orders respecting the herds,while Juan rode in the other; and the vaqueros all regarded him as beinginvested with authority by their master. The report of Antonio andSancho of what had taken place at San Diego and on the road, had greatlypredisposed them in his favour, and the manner in which he had succeededin sitting a horse that few of them would venture to mount had greatlyincreased their respect for him. Don Senor Sarasta settled the matter bysaying, "If you were to go with Juan I could not leave at the same time,Will, and I particularly wish to be present at his betrothal. It wouldbe strange and contrary to all custom if one of his family were notthere; still, we could hardly be away together unless there weresomeone here to take our place. You know questions are constantlyreferred to us. One herd strays into the ground allotted to another,disputes arise between vaqueros, and, in fact, someone in authority mustbe here."
"Very well, sir. Then, if you think that I can be really useful, I shallbe only too glad to stay. You know that my own inclinations are all thatway. I have already been here five months, and I feel that thisdelightful life must come to an end before long. However, since you aregood enough to say that I can really be of use in your absence, I willgladly remain here until Juan goes down again to fetch his bride."
Two days later the Mexican and his son rode off, accompanied by sixwell-armed horsemen. Will found plenty to do, and was out the greaterpart of the day. Two days after the others had started he saw one of theIndians talking to Antonio. As soon as the latter saw him he left theIndian and came up to him.
"This Indian, who is one of the chiefs of our tribe, senor, tells methat there is a report that the Indians on the other side of the riverare preparing for an expedition. It is supposed that it is againstanother tribe farther east. They have not raided on this side of theriver for many years, but he thought that it was as well to let us knowthat they are at present in an unsettled state. He says that he willhave some of his warriors down near the river, and that he will let usknow as soon as he has any certain news."
"Is there anything to be done, do you think, Antonio?"
"No, senor; wars are frequently going on between the Indians to theeast, but we have never had any trouble with them since we came here. Ifour Indians thought that there was any danger, they would very soon beflocking down here, for they have always been promised that they shouldbe supplied with firearms were anything of that sort to happen, and theyknow that, with the aid of our people, they could beat off any number ofthese red-skins."
"I have no doubt that we could defend ourselves, Antonio; however, yousee that in Don Sarasta's absence I have a very heavy responsibility,and I think that it would be as well to take some precaution. Will youask the chief to send down a dozen of his warriors? They shall be paid,in powder and in blankets, whatever is the usual sum. I want them toestablish themselves round the hacienda, to keep guard at night. I don'tmean that they shall stay close to the house, but scout down towards theriver, so that in case of alarm there would be time to get you all infrom the huts. How many sleep there?"
"There are about thirty of us who look after the herds in the lowerparts of the valley, and eight or ten peons who work in the garden roundthe house."
"Well, that force, with
"Very well, senor, I will tell the chief."
He talked for a few minutes with the Indian.
"He will send twelve of his braves down to-morrow," he said, when herejoined Will.
"Very well, let him do so; I shall certainly feel more comfortable. Whattribe do these Indians on the other side of the river belong to?"
"They are a branch of the Tejunas, who are themselves a branch of theApaches. The head-quarters of the tribe lie on the east side of Arizona,between the Gila River and the Little Colorado. The Tejunas lie betweenthem and the Colorado; they are just as bad as the Apaches themselves,and both of them are scourges to the northern districts of Mexico."
"What are our Indians?"
"They are a branch of the Genigueh Indians. They live among the hillsbetween Iron Bluff, sixty miles below us, and those hills you see asmany miles up. A good many of them hunt during the season on the otherside as far east as Aquarius Mountains, in what is known as the Mohavecountry, but they never go farther south that side than the riverSantemaria, for the Tejunas would be down upon them if they caught themin what they consider their country."
"I wish the senor was back," Will said; "though I dare say it is allright, and that, as the Indians haven't made a raid across here for manyyears, they will not do so now. How would they get across the river?"
"They would swim across, senor. An Indian thinks nothing of swimming awide river; he simply slips off his horse, and either puts his hands onits back, or more generally holds on by its tail."
"Have these fellows guns?"
"A great many of them have. They capture them from the Mexicans, or, inpeaceable times, trade skins or their blankets or their Indian trumperyfor them. It is against the law to sell guns to the Indians, but mostMexicans will make a bargain if they have the chance, without theslightest regard to any law."
"How is it that the Mexican government does not try and get rid of theseIndians? I see by the map that the frontier line is a long way north ofthe Gila."
"Yes, senor; they may put the line where they like, but there is not awhite man for a couple of hundred miles north of the Gila, except on theSanta Fe River, and even there they are never safe from the Apaches andthe Navajoes. Why, it would want an army of twenty thousand men toventure among the mountains north of the Gila, and they would all die ofstarvation before they ever caught sight of an Apache. No, senor; unlessthere is an earthquake and the whole region is swallowed up, I don't seeany chance of getting the better of the red rascals."
After entering the house, Will said nothing of the news which he hadheard. It seemed that there was no real ground for alarm, and yet hecould not but feel very uneasy. The next morning he rode down to theriver, where a number of peons were engaged in loading the rafts withhides and tallow. He had told Donna Sarasta that he should be downthere all day, as he wanted to get the work pushed on. He had been therebut two hours when Antonio rode up at a headlong gallop.
"What is it, Antonio?" Will exclaimed, for it was evident from the man'sappearance that his errand was one of extreme importance.
"The hacienda has been attacked by Indians, senor; I was with the herdtwo miles this side of it when I heard some shots fired. I galloped tosee what was the matter, but when I got within a quarter of a mile I sawthat the Indians were swarming round it. A dozen started in pursuit ofme, but they did not follow me far."
Will stood as one thunderstruck.
"But how can they have got there, Antonio?"
"They must have come by what is called the little gap. You know it,senor,--that valley that runs off from the other nearly abreast of thehacienda. Following that and crossing a shoulder, you cross down on tothe river some ten miles higher up. They must have crossed there byswimming in the night."
"But the chief said he had scouts there."
"They could hardly watch thirty miles of the river, senor; besides, thered-skins would have sent over two or three swimmers to silence anyonethey found near the place where they were to cross."
By this time a dozen other vaqueros, who had been warned by Antonio ashe came down, joined them.
"We must ride for the hacienda at once," Will said, leaping into thesaddle.
"No use, senor, no use. I should say there must be four hundred or fivehundred of the red-skins, and we may be sure that there is not a soulalive now at the hacienda or at the huts. They will be here in a shorttime, of that there is no doubt; probably half will come down the valleyand half will go up. We must ride for it, sir; follow the river downtill we are past the hills; there is not a moment to be lost."
The peons who had gathered round gave a cry of despair. "You can go ifyou like, Antonio; I see we can do nothing at present, but I will notleave the place."
"What will you do then, senor?"
"We will take the rafts and pole them across the river; there are nosigns of Indians there, and it is not likely there will be now." Then heturned to the peons. "You have heard what I said. Get to the rafts atonce, there is not a moment to be lost. Look at that herd gallopingwildly; you may be sure that the red-skins are after them."
"The senor's advice is good," Antonio said, "and there is not a momentto be lost. Get on board all of you, comrades; tie your bridles to therafts."
All hurried on to the rafts, the ropes that held them to the shore werecut, and the peons, putting out the poles, pushed them into the stream.The rafts were already heavily laden, by far the greater portion of thecargo having been placed on board. Most of the vaqueros had their riflesslung across their shoulders, as they had heard from Antonio what theIndian had said, and had, on starting out, taken their guns with them.
"One never can tell what will happen," Antonio said; "it is always wellto be on the safe side."
Although the peons exerted themselves to the utmost, the rafts moved butslowly, and they were but seventy or eighty yards from the shore when alarge band of Indians rode down to the bank and at once opened fire. Asthey approached, Will shouted to all the men to take their places on theother side of the piles of hide, and, using these as a breast-work,those having guns at once returned the Indian fire. Five or six of thered-skins fell, and the plunging of many horses showed that they werewounded. A chief, who seemed to be in command, waved his hand andshouted to his followers, who were evidently about to urge their horsesinto the river, when Will, who had held his fire, took a steady aim atthe chief, and the latter fell dead from his horse.
"Will they take to the water, Antonio?" he asked the vaquero, who hadtaken his place on the raft with him.
"I do not think so, senor; it is not in Indian nature to run such a riskas that. We should shoot down numbers of them before they reached us,and they would have a tough job then, for the peons would fightdesperately with their long knives, and it is no easy matter to climbout of the water on to a raft with two or three men with long kniveswaiting for you. This band are Apaches, senor; they have evidentlyjoined the Tejunas in a big raid."
The Indians for a few minutes continued their fire, but as those on therafts only showed their heads when they stood up to fire, and everybullet told in the crowded mass, the Indians sullenly rode off.
The peons then resumed their poles, and in ten minutes reached theopposite shore. Will sat down as soon as he had seen the horses landed,with a feeling of despair in his heart. In the hurried arrangements forthe safety of those with him he had scarcely had time to think. Nowthat there was nothing to do, the full horror of the situation was felt,and the thought of Donna Sarasta and of Clara being murdered altogetheroverpowered him, and his cheeks were moistened with tears. What wouldthe senor and Juan say on their return? They had left him in charge, andalthough he could hardly be said to be to blame, yet he might have takengreater precautions. He should not have relied upon the Indian scouts,but have kept at least enough of the men up at the house to offer aserious
"Well, senor, 'tis no use grieving, and assuredly if anyone is to blameit is I rather than you, for I assured you that there was no danger. Ishall tell the senor so when he comes. Had he been here he would, I feelsure, have waited for further news before regarding the matter asserious. Now, senor, what do you propose to do next? You are ourleader."
"The first thing to do is to go to the hacienda after dark, and to findout what has happened there. How long do you think that the Indians willremain in the valley?"
"Some days, I should say, senor. They will no doubt kill a number ofcattle and jerk the meat. Then they will drive off as many as they thinkthey can take with them, and probably slay the rest out of purewickedness."
"The principal point is to find out if all at the hacienda have beenkilled."
"That you may be sure of, senor; but still it is right that we shouldknow. There may be one exception, although I can hardly hope."
"How do you mean, Antonio?"
"I mean, senor, that the senorita may have been spared for a worsefate--I mean, may have been carried off by them. The Indians, whilesparing no one else, old or young, always carry off the young women."
"Great heavens!" Will exclaimed, stepping back, as if he had beenstruck. "You do not say so! A thousand times better had she beenmurdered by her mother's side. It is maddening to sit here and be ableto do nothing, not even to be able to find out if this dreadful thing istrue. How many men have we with guns?"
"Thirteen besides myself and you, senor."
"Those who have no rifles will be useless; they had better go down withthe rafts as soon as it becomes dark."
"Yes, senor, that would be best. The Indians are sure to swim acrossto-night, and the four rafts would do well to push off as soon as theycan no longer be seen from the other side. The four head men, who willgo down with them, are all here."
"Call them up."
The four white men came to him.
"As soon as it is dark," he said, "you must push off; do not make theslightest noise; when you get out in the middle of the stream let thecurrent take you down, only using the poles, when it is absolutelynecessary to keep you from approaching either bank. The twelve vaqueroswho have not guns had better go with you; that will give three to eachraft. We will pick out thirteen of the best horses, the others you mustkill this afternoon for food. Have you fishing-lines?"
"Yes, senor, we always carry them with us; and we have spears and canfish by torch-light."
"Good! then you will manage very well. The vaqueros and what peons youdo not require must be landed as soon as you have passed the mountains;they had better strike up to Monterey and wait there for orders. I willgive money to one of them to buy a horse there and ride with the news toDon Sarasta at San Diego."