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Peril Finders

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<h3>Chapter Twenty.</h3> <h4>Dangerous Neighbours.</h4> Chris’s heart beat fast, and as he glanced at Ned he could see that there was a peculiar look in his eyes and strain in his countenance which suggested discomfort, if not fear. But all this was momentary. There was something else to think about beside how his companion looked, especially his father’s words, for the doctor suddenly whispered— “Keep close everybody, and have your rifles ready when they come on. Mind, no one is to fire till I give the order, and then all together. Give them the right-hand barrels, loaded with shot, a scattering volley right into the midst. That ought to scare them and make them turn about and gallop off.” “And if they don’t?” said Wilton, in a hoarse whisper. “Give them the bullets then, and let every one be carefully aimed, for we shall be fighting for our lives.” “They can’t have seen us,” thought Chris then, for though the Indians were drawing nearer and nearer, they did not seem to be searching the long grass as if they feared danger, but came on in a line, each man, as could be plainly-seen now, with his rein lying loosely upon his horse’s neck, his hands being occupied in holding a short bow with an arrow fitted to the string ready for drawing to the head and launching. “Why, they can’t see us,” thought Chris again, for as the low-down sun struck nearly horizontally it lit up the enemies’ eyes in a peculiar way, showing their transparency, and at the same time it seemed to the boy that as they came on in line at a walk they were looking in advance of where his party were waiting. The next minute all was made clear, for the line of Indians advanced obliquely towards the long grass till the leading man came almost in touch a couple of hundred yards in advance, when all at once there was the wild whirr of wings, and about a couple of dozen great birds sprang into the air. The next instant there was a peculiar dull twanging sound, followed by the fall of heavy bodies, a wild yell, and the galloping off of the enemy out into the open after the retreating flock. But three of the savages reined in, leaped from their horses, and leaving them began to seek amongst the strands of the tall grass, their search being rewarded by the discovery of four heavy turkeys, two of which were quite dead, but the others kept on flapping their wings heavily, their beautiful coppery bronze plumage gleaming brightly in the sun, till a heavy blow or two gave them their quietus, when the Indians began to twist up some of the grass, to tie the birds’ legs together tightly so that a couple of the fierce-looking fellows could hang them across their ponies’ necks. This done, amidst a good deal of grinning and gabbling perfectly incomprehensible to the listeners, the Indians mounted again and sat gazing with shaded eyes across the grassy plain, till, apparently satisfied of the direction their companions had taken, one of them uttered a deep-toned Hugh! and rode off, followed by the rest. “What an escape!” sighed the doctor, after waiting till the party was well out of hearing. “It is marvellous that they did not see us.” “They had no eyes for that, sir,” said Griggs. “They expected to find turkey, and they were too much on the watch for the birds to be looking for us. They had no suspicion of our being near.” “But the wretches have carried off our supplies,” said Ned bitterly. “Hallo! What’s that?” said Chris, as a flapping noise was heard in the grass. He did not wait for an answer to his question, but forced his way through the grass towards the spot whence the sound had come. “Look out,” he shouted, for there was a beating of wings, and a big bird rose from close to his right-hand, passing out of his reach, but not to escape, for the next moment there was a dull thud and a fall, for as it passed over him Griggs had struck at it with his rifle-barrel, breaking its wing. The fall was followed by a repetition of the beating which had first taken the boy’s attention. “I thought that wasn’t the one I heard,” he cried, and pushing forward he literally threw himself upon another of the birds, lying in the thick grass and frantically beating its wings with such violence that it levelled the grass for some distance round. “Take care,” cried the doctor warningly; “they can strike very hard with their wings.” “I’ve found that out,” grumbled Chris bitterly, as he winced from a couple of blows, but retaliated with such vigorous action by means of the butt of his rifle that the beating ceased, the great bird’s head fell over, and the prize lay inert. “Splendid!” cried Wilton and Bourne in a breath, as, hot and panting, Chris dragged his capture to where his companions stood watching the encounter. “They did not take much pains about retrieving their game,” said the doctor. “Sign that it’s too plentiful for them to need it, sir,” said Griggs, laughing. “I say; they’re not bad shots, to bring a lot like that down flying. Six birds out of one flock, with bows and arrows too.” “There were such a lot of them to shoot, though,” said Chris, “and the birds were all quite together. I say, Ned, look at this arrow. Gone right through the neck.—Think they’ll come back to look for more, father?” “No,” was the reply. “I can just see them under the sun, riding right away. We might go on now slowly if we keep in the thick grass.” The word was given, and all mounted, but not until Griggs had followed the Indians’ example of tying the two birds’ legs together and swinging them across his saddle-bow, Chris’s proposal to carry his own capture being negatived on the declaration that it would be much easier for two to be carried together than one. “You’ll get your supper after all, Ned,” said Chris, after they had been riding slowly on through the grass as near to their trail as could be guessed, for it was still considered advisable to keep as much under cover as possible, the Indians’ sense of sight being well known to be very acute. “There, you needn’t try to joke about that,” was the reply, in a weary, querulous tone. “You’re as fond of good things as I am.” “Never said I wasn’t,” cried Chris, laughing. “But I say, Griggs, we must have one of those for supper to-night, no matter how late we are.” “All right,” said the American. “I begin to feel as if I can pick a bit myself; but you won’t like raw turkey, will you?” “Haw? Nonsense! We must make a good fire, and frizzle bits over the embers.” “A good fire, to show the Indians where we’ve made our camp?” “Oh!” exclaimed Chris. “I never thought of that,” and he was silent for a few minutes, but only to break out again with, “We shall be too far off for any Indians to see, for we’ve got many miles to go yet to camp.” “And we can make our fire in the shelter of the trees,” added Ned. “That’ll be all right. But I say, Griggs, you ought to begin picking one of the birds at once, so as to be ready when we get back.” “To be sure,” said Griggs; “capital idea. You’re a nice fellow to take care of yourself out in an Indian country!” “What do you mean?” cried Ned. “Preparing a trail for the savages to follow.” “I don’t understand you.” “What! Didn’t you propose that I should begin plucking the turkey and sprinkling the feathers about as we go? Nice trail for the brutes to follow. Why, if they picked it up they’d come along at a gallop.” “Yes,” said the doctor, who had heard a part of the conversation; “we shall have to be very cautious till we get right away from the district the Indians haunt.” The night was coming on fast, for the twilight which had followed the disappearance of the sun was brief; but as the evening passed away, the moon which had looked pale and wan began to grow more and more silvery, till it was dazzling in the pure bright air, casting the riders’ shadows on the rustling grass and making their way easy. The stars were beginning to glitter too, and pool after pool was passed which looked as if it were dotted with points of light. It was a glorious ride, and not without incident. Wherever there was water the fowl which frequented the marshy pools could be heard feeding, and the wild cries of the animals which haunted the far-spreading plain came frequently to the ear, while the sharp yelping barks, or the long, low-drawn wails like those of jackals and the dismally weird snapping shout of the prairie wolf came plainly from far away where the salt bush was known to be plentiful. Every now and then too some owl came hawking by on silent wing, fixing its great eyes upon one or other of the party as it swooped past. Twice over Griggs paused in doubt as to their course, for the crushed-down grass trampled by the ponies was at times hard to trace in the moonlight; but he was not long in picking up the trail again, and at last the camp was reached, with everything looking just as it had been left that morning, while the mules were still grazing, apparently as hungry as ever, though a little closer observation proved they were picking and choosing amongst the youngest and juiciest twigs. “Hah!” sighed Ned, dropping wearily from his pony. “Now for a good fire and some of that turkey, Griggs.” “Eh? Didn’t you hear what the doctor said just now when he came up alongside?” “No,” said Ned anxiously; “what? That I was not to light the fire?” “No, nor any one else, lad. He said that no fire was to be lit to-night, and that we must all make shift with a bite of what we left in camp this morning.” “Oh!” groaned Ned, so dismally that Chris was not too weary to forget his own disappointment and laugh and chuckle with delight at his companion’s discomfiture. But that was not the only disappointment, for as soon as the ponies had been unsaddled and freed from their bits, to be turned loose for a roll and graze, Griggs, who had been to examine the provender, came back to announce that there was none to examine. “What!” cried the boys in a breath. “Why, we left plenty for a cold supper.” “Yes,” said Griggs, “but the jackals, or wolves, or whatever they were, haven’t.” “You don’t mean to say—” began Chris, who felt far from mirthful now. “Yes, I do; they’ve been here and cleared out everything.” “But no fire, no turkey, no tea,” cried Ned. “What are we to do?” “Just as the mustangs have, my lad; have a good long drink, a roll, and then—” “We can’t graze,” cried Chris. “No, but we can take it out in sleep.” <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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