THE SEARCH
"Shall we camp here?" I asked, "this seems to be as good a place as any."
Jim shook his head.
"No, we will work our way north till we can get a view of our old camp. Perhaps we will find some trace of Tom and the captain."
We rode on steadily, following along the top of the ridge. The whole vast, shadowy country blackened and desolate, lighted by the occasional fires, seemed to me quite unrecognizable.
"I don't believe we can tell the canyon when we arrive at it," I suggested, "they all look alike to me."
"I guess I will know it when we come to it," Jim answered.
"You are a better mountaineer than I am if you can," I said.
"I am," replied Jim coolly.
I reckon there was no doubt of it, for Jim had developed a remarkable sense for locality, and had a natural instinct for direction, while I was easily lost, but I could tell the east when the sun rose and the west where it set. Beyond that I was not much of an authority.
"Here we are," exclaimed Jim.
We had arrived at the head of a narrow canyon that looked to me much like the one we had just gone by.
"How can you tell?" I asked.
"Never mind," replied Jim, "you will see that I am right."
Jim was not above adding to his reputation by a certain mystery, which gave the impression that he controlled certain occult forces which he did not choose to explain to the ignorant and the uninitiated.
"You guessed right," I said after we had ridden down a ways above the wall of the canyon. "You certainly have pretty good luck."
"We are above the camp now," said Jim, "let's see if we can wake them up?"
He put his hands to his lips and gave a yell loud enough to wake the dead. No response.
"I'm going down to make sure," he said.
So he swung himself off Piute, and followed by Santa the two soon disappeared, leaving me alone, but I was used to that. So I dismounted to give Coyote a rest. I hope Jim will be able to find water down there, I said to myself.
I did not have very long to wait, when I saw Jim, toiling up from below.
"What luck?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"They haven't been around since the fire and the pack horses are gone."
My heart sank and a sensation of absolute loneliness came over me. Here we were, the two of us, with no one to aid us. Only a short supply of ammunition. It certainly was a desperate situation.
"Cheer up," said Jim. "Here is something to wet your whistle."
He handed over the canteen. I seized it eagerly. I would not have exchanged its old battered tin hulk for diamonds or gold.
I raised it eagerly to my lips and let a stream gurgle down my throat. Talk about whiskey and its enthusiastic effects, I never tasted anything more intoxicating than that water. It made me feel absolutely dizzy.
"What next?" I asked.
"There is nothing to do but to look for them."
"Yes," I said, "I suppose we had better work down to the plains."
"Not much," replied Jim. "You take my word for it that they are back in the range. Ten chances to one if we went down we would fall into the hands of the Apaches."
"Back to the woods for me then," I said very promptly.
"Let's walk a ways and rest the ponies," suggested Jim.
"All right," I said. "I have been cooped up so long in that fort that I won't mind having a chance to stretch my legs."
So we walked up the grade towards the summit we had left a little while before, the ponies following us like obedient dogs, while Santa took the lead. In an hour we had reached the top of the long ridge or rather mountain, which dominated the various canyons like little pigs near the mother sow.
The fires were still burning everywhere and we could see the skirmish line of the main fire eating its way in irregular outline along the darkened plain.
"It's up to you, Jim," I said, "which way now? You are the guide for this party."
"Over the hills and far away," he cried. "All aboard for the grand canyon."
And he swung into the saddle. There was something in the cheek of him that called out my admiration, even if I was his brother. To think of the object of our trip when it seemed the most impossible thing in the world to obtain. But it was like Jim.
"You see the outline of that mountain over there?" he asked, pointing to the West. "The one above the fire line?"
"Yes," I replied.
"That's the one I'm going to make for. When we get to the summit I am going to build a big signal fire that can be seen all over this country. Then we shall see 'what we shall see.'"
"Yes," I replied, "we 'shall see' the whole tribe of Apaches."
"Don't you worry," replied Jim. "If we once get our party together we will stand them off."
We now left the summit of the long ridge and rode down a long spur that tended down into a deep cross valley.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Three o'clock," he replied, "we will soon hear the roosters crowing."
In an hour's time we had reached the depth of the valley. It must have been beautiful a few hours before, but now it was as black as the Valley of The Shadow.
"Look here, Jim, there's quite a stream," I cried.
"Good luck," yelled Jim. "Now our horses can have a drink."
They certainly made the most of it. The water throbbed down their long throats in regular piston strokes. No matter if the water was discolored and tasted of ashes and charcoal, Santa, too, made the most of it.
After the ponies had satisfied their thirst we crossed to the opposite side and Jim scanned the barren bulk of the mountain that rose above us. He was looking for the best line of ascent.
"Jo, did you hear that?" exclaimed Jim in great excitement.
"It sounded like two rifle shots close together," I answered. "Now, we are in for it. We never will escape the Apaches this time."
"Ho, ho," laughed Jim. "Apaches! That was the captain's rifle as sure as I stand here. That was no old carbine."
We waited, listening intently. Then we fired two shots apiece simultaneously. Then in a minute came the answering signal. Two rifles this time.
"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! Whoop la," we yelled. It seemed to me the most joyful moment of my life. The captain and Tom found again after the terrible perils we had been through.
We urged our ponies in the direction of the shots and Santa sprang away in the lead. He would be the first to welcome the captain and Tom. In five minutes we saw the dark outlines of two mounted men and two horses following.
We met on the spur of the mountain with only the livid light of a burning pine nearby to enable us to distinguish each other. The captain swung from his horse and gripped Jim by the hand, then he took my hand likewise. "Well met," he exclaimed.
For a moment there was silence, then Jim spoke up.
"That was a deuce of a big fire you started, captain," he said. "You must have been pretty cold."
The captain smiled grimly.
"I could tell that was you from that remark, but your appearance is deceiving. You look considerably like a nigger."
"We thought that we wouldn't see you fellows again," said Tom. "You must have been through it, the way you look."
"Come, boys," said the captain, "the first thing for us to do is to get above the fire line and camp. We thought we had lost Santa. How did you get him?"
"He got us," I answered.
"It's all right now. He went off on a trail of his own," commented the captain. "I'm glad that he located you."
We now proceeded up the mountain on the back trail, the captain in the lead. After a while daylight came and it showed a scene of desolation below us. The blackened trees, some standing, thousands fallen, the pallid smoke rising from mountain slopes and curling out of deep canyons.
Above us, however, was a brighter prospect, for below the snow fields were the unscarred pines and the ravines where were the clear streams.
After an hour's hard climb we were among the trees with bushes, and here and there bunches of grasses and of flowers. It seemed like paradise to our fire scorched eyes. We made our camp in a wide ravine, near a pleasant stream.
"Well, this is jolly," said Jim. "I am glad to have a chance to wash my features and comb my hair."
We took the saddles off our tired horses and it was a pleasure to see how they took it. The fire was made and once more we were united around the old campfire.
Depend upon it, we had a long talk and the captain told of his efforts to help us. He and Tom had spent several hours in making their preparations. Below the ridge at a distance of three hundred yards or more apart they had placed inflammable pitch pine in dry brush and timber.
Tom had been sent with the pack horses up beyond the danger zone and then with a pitch pine torch the captain started the fire at the eastern end, then full gallop to the west and thus up the line. The wind was blowing a hurricane and scattered fire brands far and wide.
It is easy to unleash such a tempest of fire, but once started it is beyond all human control.
We told our story and then fixing up a bed of boughs or rather small branches, I rolled up in my blankets and was soon sound asleep. There was comfort in it after the hardships of the past two nights.
We did not move camp until the next day. By that time we were thoroughly rested and ready for whatever might be ahead of us, whether Indians or forest fires.
Our horses also were feeling good, which they showed by acting badly.
The captain scouted out and returning reported no signs of Indians. They had been driven away.
"Well, boys," he said, as we started the next day, "I shall have to leave you as soon as I get you out of these mountains."
"We hate to think of it," said Jim. "Better go with us as far as the river anyway."
But the captain shook his head.
"No, really Jim, I appreciate you boys' friendship and I like to be with you, but I am getting too old for this exciting life and I must get back to my plateau and my books."
"I have given the captain one of my books to read," said Tom.
"Gee," laughed Jim, "I bet the captain will be thrilled when he reads about the dukes and dukesses and all those high-fliers."
"That will do, Jim," said the captain. "I value the book as a gift from Tom."
So nothing more was said on that line. We were now fairly launched for the remainder of our voyage through the mountains and we rode forward in good spirits.