CHAPTER XV A CRY ACROSS THE WATER
"If we kin, we must reach Hishu afore Windy Pete gits thar."
It was Buckskin Dan who spoke as he and the constable swung on their way the morning after the night of alarms. They were returning by a different trail, which would bring them to the river a few miles below Hishu. Along this route was a high range of hills where mountain sheep were plentiful. Here they expected to bag a tender lamb to take back with them to the village.
"Yes," continued Dan, "we must git that fust, an' then find out fer sartin if Pete was that skunk wot distarbed us last night."
"We'll have to do some hustling, then," Grey replied. "If we stop for game it will make us late."
"Can't be helped, pardner. Grub's mighty low with me jist now, an' if we don't git it to-day, it'll mean another trip to-morrer, an' I don't like to leave Hishu too often jist at present."
Thus for hours they continued on their way, stopping only once by a small brook to eat their last morsel of food. The afternoon was well advanced as the long terrace-like range loomed up before them on their right.
"Should find some sheep over thar," remarked the trapper. "Guess we'd better leave the trail, and circle yon knoll. Thar's good feedin' ground on t'other side."
Slowly and cautiously they wound their way over broken and twisted rocks, keeping a sharp look-out the while. Creeping guardedly about the side of a hill, with a deep gulch below, they beheld a small flock of sheep feeding calmly several hundred yards away. To Grey it seemed cruel to disturb that peaceful scene. He thought of the assailant stealing upon him in the dead of night, and here he was doing the same to these harmless creatures. But Buckskin Dan evidently had no such qualms of conscience. He needed meat, and the sheep were there for man's use, so that was sufficient. Speedily he advanced, gliding from rock to rock with such agility that Grey, nimble though he was, found it difficult to follow. At length they were forced to creep upon all fours, and when at last they were as close as prudence allowed the trapper took careful aim at a small-sized sheep and fired. The animal gave one great leap into the air, and then dropped to the ground. Its companions, terror stricken, gazed for an instant in the direction from whence the report had come, and then fled wildly across the open space and disappeared like magic among the rocks.
"I've snipped that critter fer sure," Dan remarked, "so I'll jist dodge over an' bring it back."
But this was easier said than done, for they found after they had gone a short distance that the rocks sloped down to the very edge of the precipice like one side of the roof of a house, about fifteen feet in width. Leaving his rifle behind, Dan slowly made his way along the narrow ledge, holding on carefully to the wall towering above. A sharp point jutting out partly barred his progress and as he attempted to go around this his foot lost its hold, and he found himself slipping down the sloping rock, which had been worn smooth by wind and rain. With a cry of terror he clutched frantically for something upon which to fasten his fingers. But not an object could be found. Down and down he moved, and when it seemed as if in another instant he must be hurled to immediate death his hand touched a jagged fissure in the surface. How his tense fingers did dig into the friendly crevice as he hung over that awful place. Below yawned the gulf; above stretched the merciless rock.
So quickly had all this taken place that Grey had hardly time to think, much less to act. A numbing horror overspread his whole body as he watched his companion moving down to apparent destruction. But when he saw him gripping so desperately to the rent in the rock he quickly roused to action. He looked about for something to stretch out to his helpless partner. But not a branch or sapling could he behold—nothing that would serve his purpose. He looked far down into the valley; he might get something there. But it would take considerable time to go and return, and in the meantime what would happen to Dan!
"How long can you hold on?" he called.
"'Bout a minute," came the weak reply. "Me fingers are 'most broke. Fer God's sake do somethin', an' do it quick!"
Then Grey acted. He tore off the buckskin jacket he was wearing, which Dan had loaned him, and gave it a most vigorous pull to test its endurance. Next he unbuckled the cartridge belt which encircled his waist. Tying one end of this to a sleeve of the jacket he fastened the other end securely about his ankle. Finding a suitable stone lying near, with some difficulty he made it fast to the second sleeve of the jacket. This accomplished he stretched himself carefully down the rocky incline, and holding on firmly with one hand to the point of a jagged flinty rift, with the other he let out his improvised rope of salvation. The weight of the stone bore it steadily toward the clinging trapper. Would it reach? And if so would it be strong enough? Dan saw it coming, and a gleam of hope came into his faded eyes. But alas! it was still too far away.
"Let her out some more," he shouted. "I can't tech it yit."
Then Grey stretched himself out full length, and with both hands gripped the rock above. It was all that was needed. Dan's tired fingers closed eagerly upon the sleeve of the jacket. He tested its strength ere letting go of his old precarious support. Finding that it held firm he committed himself to its keeping, and slowly and painfully made his way foot by foot up from that dizzy, frowning ledge. Neither Grey nor Dan spoke. The silence was intense. Would the connecting link hold? Would it bear the strain to the end? Grey could feel the weight attached to his leg, but could not see how his comrade was progressing. He half expected at any instant to hear the jacket or belt give way. The perspiration stood in great beads upon his forehead, and he almost held his breath in the intenseness of the moment. But when he felt Dan's hand laid with a mighty grip upon his other leg, and knew that the old man was scrambling quickly up by the side of his body to a place of safety, a great sigh of relief escaped his lips. It did not take him long to draw himself up from his own perilous position after the weight had been removed.
"God bless ye, pardner!" Dan cried, reaching out a large horny hand. "How kin I ever thank ye fer wot ye've done fer me to-day?"
Grey silently grasped the extended member. Words would not come. His heart was too full for utterance.
The trapper stooped down, and slowly unfastened the buckskin jacket from the leathern belt. He next held it up in both hands, and examined it carefully.
"It stood the test well, that's wot it did," he remarked. "Never thought when I made it that it 'ud be the means of savin' me life."
"And did you make this yourself?" Grey inquired with surprise.
"Sartin, every stitch of it. It's not made with yer measly fancy thread, either, but with good stout raw hide. But even that wouldn't have borne the strain if it hadn't been fer somethin' else which made it strong."
"What was that, Dan?"
"'Twas the good Lord, that's who it was. As I kneeled thar in that awful place, with only that slender thing to keep me from death, I thought how I uster kneel at me mother's knees when a little child. It's been sich a long time sence I said a prayer that I didn't know what to say. But I remembered the prayer she taught me then, an' as I struggled up that rock with me hands clingin' to this jacket I said over in me mind,
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord me soul to keep.
It wasn't altogether suitable, I own, but it was wonderful comfortin', an' I think the Lord knew wot I meant jist as well as if it had been a long one an' fixed up with fine words. But, thar, I've talked 'bout enough. We must git away from here, an' hike it home as fast as we kin. It's gittin' late, an' I'm afeered we can't reach Hishu afore dark."
"But what about the sheep?" Grey questioned. "Are we to leave it behind?"
"Sartin. Not another step do I take after the critter. It nearly cost me me life, an' I don't venture over yon place ag'in. It's too long a way round, an' not worth the trouble. So come, let's git."
The sun had disappeared behind a tall mountain peak as they descended the slope leading to the river. Here they struck upon a well-beaten trail leading to the village. Along this they sped through the steadily deepening twilight.
Suddenly across the water came a piercing cry which stayed their steps and held them spellbound. Again and again it came, and then all was still. It was a cry for help. There was no doubt about that. Grey's heart beat tumultuously, and an horrible dread overwhelmed him. It was a woman's voice, and it sounded like Madeline's! Springing quickly up the bank at the side of the trail he peered over the tops of the trees, and there out in the stream he caught one fleeting glimpse of a canoe ere it swung around a bend in the river and disappeared from view.
"It's the lassie! It's the lassie!" cried Dan, who had sprung to his side. "Thar's somethin' wrong."
"My God, yes!" Grey replied. "What can we do, oh, what can we do? There's some villainy in this! Do you think they've taken the boy, too?"
"Can't tell. But we must git into Hishu as fast as our legs'll take us, an' find out fer sartin."
Grey waited to hear no more. He leaped down the bank and hurried along the trail. That wild pathetic cry for help still rang in his ears. Madeline was in trouble, in danger! That was enough. Forgotten now were his old doubts and fears. He thought of her only as of old. His steps quickened to a trot as he neared the village, then to a run. Down the trail he sped like a greyhound, with Dan following pantingly some distance behind. He flew by the trapper's cabin, the store and the cluster of deserted shacks. He dashed across the open, reached Old Meg's house, beat upon the door, pushed it open, and sprang into the room.
"Where is she?" he cried. "What has happened? For God's sake tell me, quick!"
Little wonder that Meg started back with surprise, mingled with fear, at this sudden intrusion and the towering form standing before her. Grey's unshaven face was drawn and haggard, while his eyes glowed with a light of wild intensity.
"Where is she?" he demanded. "Why don't you speak?"
"W-what do you mean?" the woman replied. She felt there must be some reason for Grey's excited manner. It disconcerted her, leaving her much confused.
"I want to know what has become of Miss Normsell, who has been staying with you, and also the boy? Where are they? Do you know?"
"They went for a stroll to the river some time ago, and should be back by now. It's getting late."
"To the river? My God!" cried Grey. "Then it was Madeline! She's gone, and the boy, too! There's some foul plot."
Grey asked no more questions. He stared for an instant at Old Meg, then turned and left the building, leaving the woman gazing wonderingly after him.