“Never mind; it is a tame story compared to yours,” replied Alison. “Go on, Steve, unless you are tired.”
“I’ll go on and get through with it. Well, it looked scary for a man who hadn’t anything better’n his own legs to carry him over that country where it was overrun with Injuns, but I jogged along the best I could, dodging the redskins, climbing mountains, swimming streams, killing game for food, and living as it happened. Fortunately I was something of a woodsman and knew some tricks that were of service to me. The Injuns were pretty likely to be skulking about, and once or twice I came on their camp-fires, hardly cold, but I managed to get off scot free. Once I was shot at from the bushes, and once I came near drowning. I reckon nobody ever saw a wilder country, rocks and precipices, cañons, ravines and mountain streams; and all sorts of cattle in the woods: bears, wolves and wild-cats. I wonder I got through alone and with no better weapon than a pistol, and a bowie-knife that one of the men left behind him, there in the camp.”
“My prayers for you were answered,” said Christine, lifting his hand and laying her cheek against it.
“I reckon that was it,” returned Steve simply. “Well, sirs, after a time I happened on a town or two, and learned that if I struck out north I’d reach Santa Fé. I hadn’t gone far before I fell in with some American troops on their way to California. I learned what was going on in that direction and made up my mind to join them. It seemed about the best thing I could do at that time. After a while we met Kit Carson on his way to Washington with despatches from Colonel Stockton, and General Kearney persuaded him to hand over his despatches and said he would have them delivered by a safe hand if Carson would pilot us to California. I was so far from home by this time that I thought I might as well go further and see something of service. I’d made up my mind anyhow to go if the war broke out and one division of the army was as good as another, so I did my best till I was taken prisoner and lay in a nasty Indian village for months. I was rescued just when I thought I had come to the end of my limit, taken to Santa Fé, more dead than alive, and there Neal found me. That’s the story. I reckon I’ll let some one else do the talking now.” He lay back exhausted, and Alison slipped from the room, returning with a glass of fresh milk which he drank eagerly.
“They’re going to spoil me, Neal,” he said; “I can see that.”
“You’ll take right smart of spoiling,” said John, “before you’re where you ought to be.”
“I’m better than I look,” Steve declared. “All I want is a little strength. Suppose you let ’em hear from you, Neal.”
“Well, you know when I started out I hadn’t much to go on,” began Neal. “But I knew one thing; that the last seen of Steve was in the valley of the Guadalupe, not far from Night Creek, and I made for that place as straight as I could, following a trail I found. I got along as well as could be expected, had a good horse, and packed what I could. I didn’t meet any ogres or such creeturs, which wasn’t surprising to me, whatever it may be to some others.” He looked at Alison and laughed.
“Quit your foolishness,” she said. “Go on.”
“I went on. I’ve been going on ever since I left here. Well, sirs, after a time, didn’t I stumble on that very camp of Pike’s? and there he was as large as life and twice as natural, with a gang of about six others. He was as surprised a scamp as ever you did see when I called him by name, but I saw at once that I might as well have struck an Injun camp, and that I’d better get out as quick as I could, so I ponied out between dark and daylight, and came near running full tilt into a band of Injuns, but they weren’t looking for me any more than I was for them, so I lay low and sort of circled around till I came bump upon the camp again. It was a good thing I had the gumption to light out when I did, for if those blamed redskins hadn’t ferreted out that camp and there was every man scalped and as dead as a door-nail.”