Chapter XI: The Black Night

"How does this suit you, Bob?"

Frank asked this question as he and his comrade sat there in their saddles, and glanced around at the peaceful scene. They had climbed the bank of the _barranca_, and reached a spot where the grass was growing under a cluster of mesquite trees.

"It looks good enough for me," replied the young Kentuckian.

"Plenty of forage for the horses," Frank went on, nodding his head as he looked; "and do you see that little trickling stream of water that crawls along? All we have to do is to hide the horses here. When we want 'em, the chances are we'll find 'em safe."

"I hope so," remarked Bob, as he alighted.

In a short time they had removed saddles and bridles, hiding these among the neighboring rocks, together with their supplies, and had picketed the horses by means of the lariats.

"Now what?" asked Bob.

"You sit down here, and wait till I come back," Frank remarked.

"What are you going to do?" the Kentucky lad inquired; "something that I might lend a hand at?"

"No, I reckon you're a little shy on knowing how to hide a trail, Bob. Old Hank showed me, and I've practiced it often. This promises to be a chance to see whether I learned my lesson half-way decent."

"Oh! all right, Frank. But some day I expect you to show me all about that sort of thing. You know I want to be in the swim, and learn how to do everything there is. I'll wait here by the water," and Bob dropped down to rest.

"I won't be gone long," Frank observed. "Pretty much all the slope was made up of stone; and what a great time the horses did have, trying to hang on. Once I thought your nag was going to take a nasty plunge, because he isn't as used to the work as a Western pony would be. But he recovered, thanks to the help you gave him, and made the top all right. So-long, Bob."

"I notice you're taking your gun along," remarked the one who was to stay.

"Well, when you're in the mountains it's just as well to be prepared all the time. You never can tell when you'll run slap into something. It might be a big grizzly like the one we met; then perhaps a hungry panther might take a notion to tackle you. I knew a cowman who had that happen to him. Yes, and perhaps you heard him tell the story."

"You must mean Ike Lasker," Bob replied, quickly. "Yes, I remember how he said he was lying down, waiting for some feeding deer off to windward to work closer, when, all of a sudden, something struck him on the back, and nearly knocked the wind out of him for keeps. He managed to get his knife out, and they had it there, good and hard."

"Ike said he nearly cashed in his checks that time," Frank added. "Some of his mates found him, after they discovered his horse feeding near by. The panther was dead as a stone, and Ike was clawed and bit till he looked like a map of the delta of the Mississippi--anyhow, that's the way he told it. Keep your shooter handy, too, Bob."

"I will that," returned the Kentucky boy, impressed by his chum's earnestness.

After a little while Frank came back again. His manner told that he was quite satisfied with what he had done.

"A sharp-eyed trailer might find where we left the canyon," he admitted; "but I don't believe any ordinary fellow would notice the marks. So I think our horses stand a first class chance of being here when we come back for 'em."

Bob got on his feet.

"I've fixed up some grub, just as you told me," he remarked. "It isn't much, but ought to serve in a pinch."

"And as it's nearly noon now," observed Frank. "Why not take a snack before we leave our base of supplies? Let's get the stuff out of the cache again, and have a round of bites."

"I don't see the use of hurrying away from here right now, anyhow," Bob remarked, while they were eating.

"You mean," said Frank, "that we only came here to see what we could find out about the secret of old Thunder Mountain, and why it kicks up such a rumpus every little while?"

"Yes, and seems to me that since we're right on the ground now, we might just as well start business, here," Bob asserted.

"That is, hang around until night, and wait to see if the grinding begins again, as it did when we were in camp below?"

"We'd be in a position to guess what it was, better than before," Bob went on.

"That's a fact," laughed Frank. "And if, as lots of people think, this old mountain is a played-out volcano, perhaps we might even smell the sulphur cooking, by sticking our noses down into some of these crevices in the rocks."

"Now you're joshing me, Frank!" declared the Kentucky lad, reprovingly.

"I am not," replied the other, immediately. "Suppose there was any truth in that fairy story about the fires away down in the earth here; don't you think a fellow might get a whiff of the brimstone if he was Johnny on the spot? Why, honest now, Bob, it was on my mind to find some sort of cave up here, and go in just as far as we could. Don't you see the point?"

"Oh! I reckon I do, Frank. You take little stock in that yarn; but, all the same, you think we ought to look into it, now we're on the ground?"

"That's it, Bob. Why, even my dad kind of favors that idea, and I want to either prove it a fake, or learn that there's something to it."

So they lay there, lazily enough, instead of climbing farther up the side of the mountain. It was very pleasant to keep in the cool shade of the trees, with that trickling little stream so near, for, as the afternoon advanced, it seemed as though the air became very oppressive.

Frank was looking up at the sky many times, and finally his companion asked him what was on his mind.

"I don't pretend to be a weather sharp," Frank replied; "but, all the same, there are signs up there that've got me guessing."

"Well, it _is_ clouding up some," replied Bob, as he swept a look around at what they could see of the arch overhead. "Perhaps the long drought is going to be broken at last, Frank. Your father will be tickled, if it turns out that way. He's been complaining of late about the stock having to hunt twice as far away from the ranch for forage. A rain would make things green again."

"Sure it would," replied Frank; "but, as I said to you before, a rain storm up in the Rockies is sometimes no joke. We may have to do some tall climbing if it gets a whack at us when we're in the canyon."

The day was passing. They had seen nothing more of Peg Grant and his two guides, but could easily believe the others were not a great way off. Perhaps they, too, were only waiting for night to come in order to start their investigation.

"I don't think either Spanish Joe, or Nick, could be depended on, if the thing began to look too spooky," Frank had said more than once, showing that his thoughts must be running in the direction of the rival party.

"Oh! this is easy," chuckled Bob. "If all we've got to do is to squat here and take notes when the menagerie begins to wake up, it's going to be a snap."

Frank did not want to make his chum nervous by confessing that he had another reason for agreeing to remain there idle the balance of the day, besides the fact of there being no hurry, and that they could take notes just as easy there as farther up the mountain.

The fact was, he had concluded, it would be safer for them to remain in hiding while daylight lasted, and do what searching they expected to accomplish in the darkness of night.

It was too easy, for anyone who had no scruples, and wished to do them injury, to drop a rock down from the wall of the canyon. Against this sort of attack their rifles would be useless; and terrible damage might result.

As to who would be guilty of such an outrage, Frank only remembered that Peg was in a white heat of indignation, and fully capable of doing some madcap prank in order to frighten off the two saddle boys. He was also not a little worried about the rustlers, supposed to be lurking somewhere not far distant.

Last, but not least, there were the prospectors to whom little Lopez had admitted he was carrying the supplies that were secured on the pack burro. Frank had not heard of any treasure-hunters having invaded the slopes and valleys around Thunder Mountain; but this did not mean it could not be true.

If these men were secretly taking out possibly large quantities of precious ore, and did not wish to be discovered, or disturbed in their operations, even they might try to alarm the invaders by hostile demonstrations.

"It's as pretty a mixup as ever I heard tell of," Frank had said several times that afternoon, while they were exchanging confidences in connection with the remarkable possibilities around them. "What with the rustlers, Peg and his crowd of thunder investigators, the little Mex. boy and his unknown prospector bunch; and last but not least, Bob, ourselves, it sure has me going some."

"Yes," the other had returned, "but I hope we'll keep clear of the whole lot, and be able to find out something worth while. I wish the next night was over, and we were galloping along over the plains headed for good old Circle Ranch."

"Me too, Bob, always provided we carried with us an explanation for those deep grumblings that shake the earth, and seem to come out of the heart of Thunder Mountain. I'm a stubborn fellow, as I reckon you know; and when I throw my hat into the ring I like to stick it through till they carry me out."

"The same here," Bob had declared, after which the chums had to shake hands on it again, thus sealing the compact to stick.

And so the day went, and night came on apace.

The air did not seem to cool off to any extent as darkness approached. Frank took pains to call the attention of his comrade to this fact.

"You can guess what that means, Bob," he remarked. "It's sure going to bring on a whopper before a great while. All the signs point that way right now. So we can expect to get ready for a ducking."

"Oh! that doesn't bother me," declared Bob. "I've been through many a one. All I hope is that we don't happen to be in the old canyon when that cloudburst you mentioned comes along. I'm not hankering after a ride on a forty foot wave, and down that crooked old canyon, too. Excuse me, if you please!"

"Of course if we only stick it out here, there's going to be no danger," Frank remarked, indifferently.

"I see that you're just itching to be on the move, old fellow," ventured Bob, who knew the restless nature of his chum.

"Do you? Well, Bob, to tell the truth, if I was alone now, I suppose I'd be making for the top of the old hill, bent on finding out whether there was any sign of smoke oozing from the cracks and crevices at just the time the rumblings came on."

"Then what's to hinder both of us going at it?" demanded the proud Kentucky lad, fearful that Frank might think him timid because he had suggested their remaining out of the danger zone.

"We may, later on. Just now it's our business to get some supper; and hot or not, I'm going to make a cooking fire back of this big boulder, where nobody could ever glimpse the blaze."

"Did you say coffee?" remarked Bob. "All right, I'll go you, old fellow. I feel a little that way myself, and that's no yarn."

So Frank got things started, and it was not a great while before the coffee pot was bubbling as merrily as ever, with that appetizing odor wafting from it.

The darkness kept on increasing while they ate. An hour later it was very black all around them, and Bob viewed the possibility of their venturing into the unknown perils around them with anything but a comfortable feeling.

It was just when he was wondering whether Frank would not conclude to remain in the safe position they occupied that he heard his comrade give a sharp cry.

"What have you discovered, Frank?" asked Bob, starting to get up.

"A light up the side of the mountain yonder," replied the other, "and, Bob, perhaps if we could only manage to climb up there, we'd learn something worth while. The question is, have we the nerve to try it?"