CHAPTER XVI
INDIAN "SIGN"
"What's that?" cried Snake, turning from where he had been talking with
Captain Marshall. "Real Indians this time?"
"Nothing to worry about," answered the commander of the troopers with a smile. "That's one of my scouts, and he's evidently found something."
"Found something?" questioned the veteran cowboy.
"Indian sign, most likely. I sent several men out, just before we sighted your party and took you for the Yaquis. I told my men, if they discovered anything, to get within sight of us and fire one shot. Then they were to stay on the spot until we came to investigate, and that's what we'll do now."
"Do you think it's the trail of the Yaquis he has discovered?" asked
Nort, waving his hand toward the solitary horseman.
"It may be—I rather hope so, for we haven't had any luck thus far in locating the beggars. When we sighted you we thought we were in for a fight, but it didn't happen," the captain added, his voice quite rueful.
"I notice you came along all primed for business!" chuckled Yellin' Kid.
"But we were ready for you—in case you had turned out to be those
Mexican imps!" added Rolling Stone.
"Yes, you seemed to have picked out a good spot," complimented the cavalry captain. "We were just talking among ourselves that we were going to have trouble in getting you out, when we saw one of you wave a hat and then we knew it was all right. In a way we were glad, for this fighting is nasty business at best, though we don't pass any of it up when it comes our way," he added with an air of pride in his troop.
"You weren't any gladder to find out there was a mistake than we were," said Dick. "You soldiers looked like a lot of Indians with lances and scalps dangling from them." Indeed the lances of the troopers were decorated with wisps from the tails of horses, and, at a distance, might have resembled grewsome human scalps.
"There are few Indians, now-a-days who use lances," said Captain Marshall. "They went out of date about the time Fenimore Cooper wrote about Leather Stocking. The Indians didn't keep to their bows and arrows, or lances, once they could get guns and powder. I don't know much about the Yaquis, but I fancy they did the same—discarded their lances, if they ever used any, and their bows, for guns."
"Another thing," added Lieutenant Snow, who was next in command to his captain, "scalps were too precious a trophy to dangle from the point of a lance. Some Indians may have tied strands of human hair on their lances, but I doubt if they used scalps. The scalps were hung at the belt of the man who took them, to be afterward displayed in his tepee. But I don't believe the Mexican Indians followed that practice, though of course I'm not certain about it."
"The modern Yaquis are mean enough to do anything," said Rolling Stone. "What the old timers did doesn't matter now. It's what these of today do. And I reckon ye've heard how a party of 'em has taken prisoners some of their friends," and he waved his hand toward the outfit from Diamond X, of which he was not yet a full-fledged member.
"Yes, we heard about the uprising," admitted Captain Marshall. "We had orders to take the trail, and we've been on it since. Well, as long as you are ready, we may as well trot over and see what the scout has to report. I hope he can put us on the real trail."
The bugle sounded, the troopers formed, and with the boy ranchers and their friends falling in the rear, an unofficial part of the company of regulars, the cavalcade set forth again.
On the way Snake Purdee, who rode beside Captain Marshall, told such details as he possessed about the capture of Rosemary and Floyd. The officer had heard pretty much the same story, for it had been wired to distant points on the theory that the Yaquis would scatter, and there was no telling in which direction they would travel.
"So Del Pinzo is on the rampage again; is he?" asked the Captain, as they neared the lone scout, who was patiently waiting to impart such information as he had.
"Well, he won't rampage an awful lot until he gets a new outfit!" chuckled Yellin' Kid, who had ridden up to be on hand when the scout was reached.
"What do you mean? Did you shoot him up?" asked the cavalry captain. "If you did you ought to get a medal of honor, for of all the rascals in this section he's the worst."
"We shot him and his followers up a bit," admitted Snake, "but we didn't damage 'em as we ought. However we took their horse furniture and guns away and left 'em their animals. It'll be a few days before they get active again."
"Good!" exclaimed Captain Marshall. "And now we'll hear what Kelly has to report."
The scout saluted as his commanding officer rode up, and the others, realizing that there was a certain need of reserve in this first interview, held back until the captain should signify that he was ready to talk to them. For a time Captain Marshall and Private Kelly talked in low tones, the scout frequently leaning over to point to something on the ground, the captain gazing intently where his trooper indicated. Finally the commander waved his hand to invite his fellow officers and troopers, as well as the members of Diamond X, to approach.
"Kelly has found it," said the captain. "Plenty of Indian sign, which shows the Yaquis, or some of them at least, passed this way. Here's the trail, and we'll follow it. Do you want to come with us?" he asked of Snake Purdee.
"Well, we'd like to, if it isn't asking too much. Our main object is to get within shooting distance of these Yaquis, and save this Rosemary girl and her brother."
"Precisely our object," the captain said. "And as long as we have the same business I think we can do better together than if we separate. Your men will undoubtedly be of service to us if the trail gets fainter, and there's no telling how many are in this band, so the more guns we have the better."
"My idea," agreed the leader from Diamond X. "And now let's have a look at this Indian sign. Rolling Stone here claims to know a lot about the Yaquis, and he may be able to put us wise to some of their wrinkles. Come here, Stone!" he invited.
In order not to obliterate the faint marks in the soil which indicated the passage of a body of horsemen, the troopers, with Bud and his friends, had halted some distance away from the lone scout. The latter had remained a little way off the trail, so his own horse's feet would not mingle with those of the enemy.
For some time the older cowboys, Rolling Stone, Captain Marshall and a few of his men who had fought Indians years back, gazed at the Indian "sign" as it is called. In this sense the word means the evidences left by a passing body of Indians, the casual and accidental record of passage. The word is also used to indicate arbitrary marks and symbols made by one body of Indians to leave a message for some body of following savages. This sign language is very difficult for a person not accustomed to it to read, though it can not be said that the degenerate Yaquis had the art down as fine as had our own American Indians of two or three generations ago.
"Well, they've been along here, and they're headed that way," said
Rolling Stone, thus confirming the opinion of the older troopers.
"Then the thing to do is to follow them," said the Captain. "Give the signal, bugler!" he called.
Once more the clear notes rang out, and the party started off after the
Yaquis.
Nort and Dick, riding beside Bud, toward the rear of the cavalcade, looked down to see what the "sign" consisted of. Aside from some hoof marks in the earth they saw nothing.
"They might have been made by our own ponies," observed Nort.
"Yes, but they weren't," Bud declared.
"How can they tell?" asked Dick.
"Oh, I don't know exactly, but there are dozens of little points that an Indian trailer looks for," Bud answered. "He can tell whether the horses trotted or walked. He can tell whether the man who rode him was a tenderfoot or a cowpuncher. And of course it's easy enough to tell in which direction a horse is going."
"Unless they put the shoes on backwards," said Nort.
"There isn't much of that done," said Bud. "And, as a matter of fact, as you know, they don't shoe many horses out here. They let 'em run barefoot. Anyhow, it looks as though we really were on the trail of the Yaquis at last."
"I hope so!" agreed Nort and Dick.