They had to exercise care, for the explosion had loosened huge chunks of rock and ice and as they proceeded Jim was amazed that the plane had not been damaged. At last they reached the spot, but as far as the boy could see there was nothing gained by the trip. However, Don Haurea made his way close to the steep cliff, which rose almost straight as a wall with several broken sections. Carefully the man investigated all of them and a moment after he disappeared into the last one, they heard him call sharply to his servant, who responded immediately, the Austins following close on his heels. To their utter astonishment they saw something huddled in a heap against a rock and as the lights turned fully upon it, they whistled.
“It—why Dad, it’s Jute—Pigeon Jute. I’d forgotten him.” Zargo was bending over the Indian, his capable fingers moving swiftly, then he said something to the Don, and an instant later picked the man up in his arms.
“He was shot,” Don Haurea explained briefly. “We will get him where it is warm and see if we can help him.”
“Shall I go ahead with a light?” Jim asked softly.
“It would be a good plan,” the Don answered, so the boy led the way down the treacherous trail. Zargo might have been carrying an infant for all the effort it took, and finally they were again in the bunkhouse. Bob was too amazed for even the mildest of exclamations, but he jumped in and arranged a bunk.
“We found him near where the plane was,” Mr. Austin explained. Then they waited silently while Zargo examined the Indian, and after what seemed hours, he looked up.
“In a moment he will return to consciousness,” he announced, and he was right. Pigeon Jute opened his dark eyes, looked from one to the other, then tried to raise himself. Don Haurea spoke to him in his own language and the Indian’s eyes lighted. After a minute, he spoke a few sentences, and when he was finished the Don nodded.
“He says that for some time he has been selling—or delivering long distance flying pigeons to Arthur Gordon. He was in the north at the time of the trouble at the Box-Z, so did not hear of it until a few days ago after he had delivered several carriers to a ranch outside of Crofton. When he learned of the difficulty he started to find young Gordon to collect his money. He trailed him to the ranch, but could not locate him until this morning. When you boys left the dugout Jute started up the trail. He was behind the cliffs when the place blew up and was coming back to see if you were hurt when he saw Gordon leap into the plane. He tried to prevent it, but was shot for his pains.”
“Jute can speak English!” Jim remarked.
“Yes, but not so well as his own tongue, which is less effort while he is so weak,” Don Haurea replied.