Chapter XXII: What Does It Mean?

“Now,” said Lieutenant Decker, as the horrible serpent glided from sight in the gloom, “if you’ll pass round the end of that big rock over yonder and give that Apache your attention, I’ll forgive you for the way you scared me.”

As nearly as he could judge, the rattler was heading in the direction named, and the officer listened, hoping to hear favorable results, but the silence was unbroken, and, if the reptile passed near the warrior, there was no collision between them.

One of the uncomfortable facts connected with these fearsome pests is that when you come upon one in the desert or wilderness, you are likely to meet another or perhaps several of them. The species attain enormous size in New Mexico and Arizona, and a sting from one of them, though slower in its results than the bite of the cobra, is about as fatal. No man can contemplate the probability of coming upon a rattler unawares in the night without a shudder. While it was not likely that the reptile, seeing the crouching man, would attack him, yet such things have occurred and the lieutenant never allowed himself to forget the fact.

His chief concern, however, was with the “two-legged rattler” who, as matters stood, was tenfold more dangerous than the creeping one. Neither of the men had gained a shot at the other, but both were hopeful of doing so.

“It must be that in some way he has learned of my change of base. I can’t understand how he got the knowledge, but if he thought I was still sneaking along the side of that boulder he would not content himself by waiting for me to come into range——”

Fortunate was it for Lieutenant Decker that he had made the change described, for, with the same unity of thought that was marvelous, the Apache had resorted to a similar artifice. Instead of confining himself to the big boulder, he had stolen back among the smaller ones, and wormed his way forward and around until he secured a position some twenty feet distant, which allowed him to scan the two sides of the boulder that had been under the eye of the white man for the last fifteen or twenty minutes.

What prevented the perfect success of the Apache, however, was the fact that he did not suspect his stratagem had been anticipated. He expected to find his enemy crouching along one of the sides of the boulder, waiting for the buck to reveal himself through some unguarded movement.

Failing to discover him at the first scrutiny, the Apache silently rose to a half-standing posture, and, with his head thrust forward, peered here and there in search of the man whom he was eager to shoot on sight.

In this position his side was toward the officer, who laid down his revolver and brought his Winchester to the front, carefully sighting at the miscreant, who was not only hungry for his life, but had doubtless dyed his hands in the blood of many an innocent person. No one could have been more cautious than Lieutenant Decker, and yet, when he came to adjust his aim, he made the exasperating discovery that no Apache was in sight. He had vanished like the shadow of a passing cloud. It was hard to say what had caused his disappearance. It may have been due to the slight noise made by the white man in preparing to shoot, or his failure to discern him where he thought he was, may have told the startling truth with that lightning-like quickness which marks the trained warrior, and caused him to drop out of view and withdraw from the post of danger with the same celerity that had brought him to it.

Be that as it may, he was gone, and the problem seemed to revert to its status at the beginning. The two enemies were still maneuvering against each other, with no apparent advantage to either. The lieutenant, however, fancied he had a trifle the better of it, for the Apache did not know where to look for him, while he had a general knowledge of the other’s location.

Now followed fifteen or twenty minutes of the most trying nature. During the interval, the lieutenant neither saw nor heard anything that could give him the slightest clue to the other’s whereabouts or his line of procedure. When the ignorance had continued that long, he began to suspect the warrior had left the place. He might have become convinced that it was too risky to attempt to outwit the white man, or he may have suspected he had a companion in the neighborhood, who was likely to appear at any moment and turn the scales against him.

This was a comforting theory, but the officer was too wise to trust his safety to it. It would have been in accord with the subtlety of the Apache to contribute to the delusion. The strained situation, however, could not last forever. Mendez was expected to arrive ere long, and he would be certain to bring a change. If the warrior was as shrewd as he appeared to be, he would find that instead of one man to contend against, he had two and possibly more.

This reasoning became so convincing at the end of fifteen minutes more that the lieutenant acted upon it. Withdrawing still further from the big boulder, he picked his way among the smaller ones until near the spot where he had seen the Apache rise to view and then drop out of sight again. He certainly was gone, but might be not far off. The lieutenant resumed his cautious circling of the huge boulder until he had passed entirely around it and come back to his starting point. This took considerable time and was accomplished with the utmost skill and care, but he neither saw nor heard anything of his enemy.

“He has vamosed the ranch, of a certainty,” was the gratifying conclusion of Decker, who felt a greater degree of security than had been his since the discovery of his peril. “At any rate, I’ll signal to Freeman.”

And he emitted the low, vibratory whistle, like the call of a nightbird. It could be heard but a short distance away, though capable of being made much louder and more penetrating.

“Freeman will be certain to hear it. He must be wondering at my delay and won’t tarry in coming to me. It may be that the Apache is listening for something of the kind and will read its meaning. If he does he is welcome.”

The officer compressed his lips and held himself ready for any demonstration from the dusky miscreant, who never would have given up his attempt on his life unless compelled to do so by a fear of his own safety. Glancing here, there and everywhere, the officer was prepared to fire the instant the opportunity presented, and was a trifle disappointed that it did not appear.

He had gone through too many perils, brief as was his service in the Southwest, to throw away any opportunity by impatience or carelessness. He repeated the signals several times, at intervals of a few minutes, and watched and listened for the reply from an enemy instead of his friend, but none came.

“The fellow has left, beyond a doubt,” was the decision reached; “he has gone to join his companions and nothing further is to be feared from him. There’s no saying, however, what some of the others may be doing.”

The distance to the spring was short. The lieutenant showed the effects of the heat by lying down on his face and taking another deep draught of the tepid water, after which he donned his hat and looked around in the gloom.

“Since the Apaches must know of this supply, I shouldn’t be surprised, if some of them came here to quench their thirst, which being so, I’ll locate a few paces from it. What the mischief can be the matter with Freeman?” he asked himself, with a feeling of vague uneasiness; “I thought he would be quick to respond to my call, but he hasn’t even answered it.”

It was well that Decker took the precaution of withdrawing from the spring and ensconcing himself among the surrounding boulders, where he could peep forth, and, by the exercise of a little precaution, see without being seen.

He had hardly taken this position when he caught the sound of footsteps and the murmur of voices. In the stillness he plainly heard the words spoken. Their surly, guttural tones, the very few sentences uttered, and the fact that he could not understand a syllable, were proof that the new arrivals were his old enemies, the Apaches. The carelessness displayed by them was proof also that they had no suspicion of the presence of any whites near. When anything of the kind is apprehended, the cunning and caution of those red men cannot be surpassed. It is almost impossible to approach them undetected, and they never indulge in the carelessness shown in this instance.

Just before reaching the spring, they passed over a spot where the moonlight struck them. There were three, dressed and accoutered like the members of the band that had wrought such sad havoc during the past day or two.

They took turns in kneeling down and quaffing from the spring, after which they rose to their feet, and stood grouped together in plain sight of the officer, who was stealthily watching them. One of them appeared to hold his peace, while the others exchanged views upon some matter that interested all.

“The next thing I must do,” thought the listener, “is to take lessons in the beautiful Apache language. I may persuade Geronimo to give me instruction, but, before he did that, he himself ought to have a few lessons in other matters.”

Nothing would have been easier than to shoot one, and perhaps all, from where the lieutenant was hiding. The distance was short, and the wretches deserved no mercy. Had Freeman been with him, it is more than probable that the two would have opened fire upon them with destructive results.

“If they’ll only be obliging enough to stand in a row,” mused the officer, struggling against the temptation, “I would let them have a broadside, but the instant I dropped one the others would be off.”

Prudence demanded that he should leave them undisturbed. The sole purpose of this remarkable expedition was to recover the lost child. To make an attack on the group, without the certainty of annihilating the whole three, would apprise the Apaches of what was on foot and inevitably defeat it. Besides, there was no telling what had become of Freeman. He, too, was likely to become involved, with disastrous consequences to himself. The occasion was unquestionably one for the exercise of self-control.

And Lieutenant Decker exercised it. He held himself motionless, with his trusty Winchester in his ready grasp, and with a strong yearning to try his skill upon the miscreants who knew no such quality as mercy.

The three warriors stood in plain view for fully ten minutes. Then they walked deliberately away, taking the opposite course from that leading to the rock where the two white men had arranged to await the return of Mendez with word of the stolen child of Freeman.

The officer kept his position for several minutes after the disappearance of the trio. There was no probability of their coming back, after quenching their thirst, but he meant to make sure they were beyond hearing before he moved.

He was uneasy over the silence of Freeman, and what he had just witnessed increased his misgivings. If these warriors made this visit, it was not unlikely that others had done the same before them. Coming upon the white man suddenly, nothing was more certain than a fatal collision, and yet it would seem that if anything of the kind had occurred, there must have been a shot, an outcry or some kind of noise which assuredly would have been heard by the lieutenant a short distance away.

But it might have been otherwise. They may have been more guarded than the last, and, stealing up to the spring, discovered the presence of the white man. In that case, they could have crept forward unawares and despatched him without any disturbance that could have been heard twenty feet away.

“I hope this suspense will soon be over. It doesn’t seem to me that there’s much chance of Freeman getting his little fellow back, even with the aid of the matchless Mendez, and now it begins to look as if it had gone ill with him. What a blow to the wife and mother, and yet how many similar ones have been struck in the Southwest!”

The lieutenant now resorted to signaling again, listening with a painful throbbing of the heart for the reply which came not.

“Something is wrong,” was his conclusion; “the poor fellow may have grown impatient with waiting and started off on a hunt of his own. If he has attempted anything of that kind, it is the end of the business so far as _he_ is concerned. I should not have left him alone—Sh!”

At that instant he was thrilled by a peculiar sound. It was not a signal or spoken word, but the low, moaning outcry made by a person in the depth of distress or great suffering.

“It’s Freeman,” whispered the lieutenant; “and some grievous ill has befallen him! He is not far off; what can it mean?”