Chapter XXI: A Game of Hide and Seek

Lieutenant Decker pressed his ear against the side of the rock and listened, hoping that his enemy would betray himself by coming in contact with the solid substance, but he was too cunning. He knew better than to act in that amateurish fashion.

It was the result of guesswork, rather than of reason, that the young man came to the belief that the warrior would steal around three-fourths of the boulder and come upon him from the rear. Accordingly he faced that way, revolver in hand, and ready for the emergency when it presented itself.

Reaching the corner, Decker paused, but with the uncomfortable feeling that, after all, he had committed a blunder and the Apache, divining his reasoning, would make his next essay from the front; but, since the whole business, for a time at least, must be conducted upon conjecture, he grimly held his ground.

During these critical moments, he did not forget the peril from above. He continually held his ear against the rock, believing that if the buck attempted to steal upon him from that direction, he must inevitably betray himself by sound, which passes readily through a solid substance, and, hearing nothing of the kind, he concluded the essay was not yet made.

Now, nothing was clearer than that so long as matters remained thus, the peril was not only unchanged but impended as before. Who was to make the first advance, as may be said, into the enemy’s territory?

The lieutenant might have been more patient, but for several contingencies which threatened to complicate the situation. Freeman was still at the spring; and although the understanding was that he was to remain there until signaled to come, it was probable that he would accept the long silence of his companion as proof that everything was right, and seek to rejoin him. Could he but know how matters stood, he would give the very help needed, but, not knowing it, was likely to run into a peril which would prove fatal to himself before his young friend could warn him or interfere in his behalf.

The other contingency was that the Apache might have one companion or more in the vicinity who would come to his assistance. Such a reinforcement would decide the singular contest at once and against the young man. The lesson of all this was that matters must be forced to an issue with the least possible delay.

The natural course of action for one in the officer’s situation was to peer gradually round the edge of the rock to ascertain where his enemy was, but no man, after second thought, would attempt anything of that nature, for, it will be seen, that it was only taking the place of the hat on the end of the gun barrel. The watchful Apache was certain to detect the insidious advance, and, before the eyes came into view, would send a bullet through the brain of the daring white man.

Accordingly Lieutenant Decker adopted the opposite course. He darted his head forward, gaining one glance along the end of the rock, and withdrawing again, before the most alert enemy could fire. It was the right course under the circumstances and proved effectual.

The moonlight struck that portion of the boulder with full effect, there being not even a ribbon of shadow, and, in full view was the Apache, advancing on hands and knees, his hideous face half-hidden by the strands of black hair which dangled about his shoulders and in front of his chest and features.

Could Decker have known this a moment before, he would have discharged his revolver at the instant of catching his glance, but to have known it was to possess a knowledge that was impossible.

The puzzling question with him was whether the warrior had seen him. He must be depending more on his sense of hearing than on sight, and it would seem that there was reason to believe he had not caught that shadowy thrusting forward and withdrawal of the head. If such were not the fact, he must be unaware of the exact location of the white man, who had only to repeat the maneuver, accompanying it by an instant discharge of his revolver.

But, suppose he had observed the shadowy movement—ay, there was the rub.

If he had failed to see it, he would continue his advance, and continuing it, must disclose some part of himself at the corner of the boulder. Accordingly, the lieutenant partly straightened up, sitting on his heels, weapon grasped, and eyes and ears wide open.

But the minutes passed and nothing was developed. It was impossible to decide what had been done or what should be the next step. Since, however, the former strategy had brought him knowledge and no harm, Decker now repeated it, holding his weapon, so that if the Apache were in his old position he could reach him with a bullet.

It was like a man darting his head through a trap door, and with one instant, all-embracing sweep of his vision, dropping out of sight before any observer could do more than recognize him.

The result was disappointing. The side of the rock was bare. The buck had discovered his peril and withdrawn. Where was he?

The lieutenant glanced behind him with a nervous start, half expecting to see the miscreant in the act of firing, but for the moment he was invisible, though somewhere close at hand.

Since the Apache was too cautious to be caught off his guard by this system of maneuvering, Lieutenant Decker asked himself what other method could be adopted. There must be a change in the order of proceedings, or he himself would be discomfited.

“I’ll do it!” he muttered, compressing his lips.

No part of the rock was more than five feet in height, so that if a man stood upright beside it, his hat would show from any point. The stone was so rough that it was as easy to climb as a flight of stairs. The lieutenant’s decision was to adopt the system of attack which he had held in so much dread from the first.

Sensible of the necessity of instant action and the great peril attending the recourse, he kept his revolver in his right hand, as he grasped the upper edge of the boulder, placed one foot upon an obstruction, and silently raised his head above the crest of the rock, intending to draw himself upon it.

His head and shoulders had just moved upward, when with a grasp he let go and dropped out of sight.

“Well, I’ll be hanged!” he exclaimed, “was there ever anything like it?”

Never did two enemies seem to follow so closely the same line of thought. It looked as if the Apache and the white man’s brains were working in unison. Thus it came about that at the very moment Lieutenant Decker raised himself over one side of the rock to the top, the Apache did the same thing at a point opposite. Both were climbing to the coign of advantage at the same moment. Either could have let fly with his pistol (for the Apache had one), but instead of doing so he made all haste to drop down, so as to interpose the boulder as an armor in front. Thus was another remarkable example given of a unity of thought.

Everything thus far done by one was duplicated by the other, and the two were once more crouching behind the rock, each debating with himself how best to end a situation, which, to say the least, was extraordinary in more than one respect.

Lieutenant Decker now resorted to a daring proceeding that was characteristic of the man. It has been said that boulders were all around him. Less than a rod to his right was another, perhaps half the size of the one he had been about to climb. Hesitating hardly a moment, he took several rapid steps, crouching low, and whisked behind the new shelter. Had the Apache suspected anything of the kind, he would have possessed a fatal advantage, for what better target can a man ask than a fleeing foe only a few yards away? But he could not know it, unless he happened to be peering around the rock at the critical moment, and he was not doing anything of that nature.

A creepy feeling came over the officer, during the moment he was gliding across the open space, such as a man feels who expects to hear the report of a weapon and feel the sting of a bullet. He flung himself behind the new shield with a feeling of inexpressible relief.

“By George!” he exclaimed, as he looked cautiously out; “I forgot my rifle!”

Sure enough, there it stood in plain sight, leaning against the big boulder, within easy reach of his enemy, should he attempt to seize it.

“But he can’t do it without giving me a chance to wing him,” muttered the officer, fully resolved to avert the catastrophe.

The one comforting fact about the situation was that the white man had improved matters and gained an unquestionable advantage. The Apache could not know of the change, and any attempt to locate his foe, without knowing he had left the immediate vicinity of the larger boulder, would expose the warrior to the shot that was awaiting him.

The new position of Decker gave him a view not only of the side where he had been crouching, but of the upper end, just as a person can see two sides of an oblong box from a certain point of view—a fact which it was not to be supposed was known to the warrior, who was, therefore, in danger of exposing himself to a shot from an unexpected quarter. Better still, he could not climb the rock without also showing himself and offering the fairest kind of a target.

All this tended to make the lieutenant much more comfortable, though the feeling would have been more marked could he have laid hand on the rifle.

“I wouldn’t be uneasy if sure he’s the only buck near, but if a second appears, and my gun is left there, they will have me foul—I’ll do it!”

All depended upon quickness and silence. In the same crouching posture, he darted across the intervening space, and was back again in a twinkling, with his gun in hand. The success of his reckless act thrilled him with pleasure.

“I haven’t been in this Apache country long,” he reflected, “but I think I have learned something. If that fellow gets the better of me, he’s smarter than I believe.”

But it was unwisdom to count on safety when peril impended. He was confronted by one of the most fearful of enemies, a member of a tribe whose exploits in cunning approach the marvelous. The most fatal thing the officer could do was to underestimate his enemy.

A dismal, disquieting question forced itself upon him: if he had effected so radical a change of base what was to prevent the Apache doing the same thing? What warrant had the white man for believing a scheme of that nature would present itself to him and not to the dusky marauder? What was to hinder his adopting the artifice?

The thought was like a wet blanket to Decker, who instead of keeping “eyes to the front,” began glancing to the right and left and behind him in quest of an insidious approach from that direction.

Nothing was seen, but the element lacking to make his situation intolerable came the next moment with the unmistakable noise—faint, but loud enough to him in his tense, nervous state to be heard plainly—made by a body gliding over the ground. Hardly had the conviction formed that it was his old enemy stealing a march upon him, when he saw his mistake. An immense rattlesnake, in its nocturnal wanderings, had been disturbed by his intrusion, and retreating a few feet, as if to gain a better point of view, threw itself into coil, reared its head and gave its warning rattle.

It was nigh enough to reach the startled man with its venomous fangs, but before it could deliver its blow, he leaped beyond reach and leveled his revolver. There was sufficient moonlight and the distance was so slight that he could have shattered its head at the first fire, but, when about to press the trigger, he restrained himself.

The shot would betray his presence to the Apache, and not only put him on his guard, but give him the chance to serve the white man as the serpent had been treated.

“This is a lovely situation,” muttered the lieutenant; “I like one about as well as the other, but I don’t intend to let you have your own sweet way.”

The latter was addressed to the rattler, a bite from which was fatal, but it could inflict no harm except by a closer approach. If it attempted to come nearer for the purpose of striking, the officer would blow its head off. He kept his eye on it. But the _crotalus_ species is cowardly, and the serpent, finding itself not likely to be attacked, came out of its coil and glided off among the boulders and was seen no more.