Adrift in the Wilds; Or, The Adventures of Two Shipwrecked Boys

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

He wandered rather aimlessly forward, his path being over loose, rattling stones, constantly descending, until he reached the hard-packed earth, and judged himself to be in about the lowermost part of the valley. On every hand rose the ridges, rocks and peaks of the hills, until, as he looked up at the cloudy sky so far above him, he seemed but the merest pigmy.

As he turned his head he caught sight of something a few rods ahead that puzzled him. For some time he could not make out its meaning, but finally he saw that it was a smouldering camp-fire, while around it were stretched five Indians—although at the moment he could not be positive as to their number—their blankets over them and they seemingly sound asleep.

He concluded that the best thing he could do was to leave that immediate neighborhood as speedily as possible. He looked hurriedly around for the best line of retreat. It was difficult to decide, and he was still debating with himself when, as he glanced at the terrifying forms, he fancied, or really saw, one of them move. Without further reflection he darted a rod or two backward and shrunk in behind a breach in the rocks.

This was no hiding-place in case the Indians came along this path. He could not conceal his body, as it was merely a niche such as would have been made had this portion of the rocky wall been set back about a foot from the rest. If the savages left the ravine by another direction there was no cause for fear, but if they came this way he had good reason to tremble.

He had scarcely ensconced himself in this place of refuge when from the woods and rocks above him came the clear, echoing whistle of Howard Lawrence. It startled him as if it were the whoop of this Indians so close at hand. Of course he dare not reply to it, for it could only precipitate his capture.

But he trembled more for the safety of his friends than himself. They were advancing hurriedly in their search, without one suspicion of the enemies so near them. Had he dared, to make a noise it would have have been one of warning for Tim and Howard to hasten away ere it was too late; but even that small comfort was denied him.

He peered cautiously out and saw that the Indians were awake, but curiously enough appeared to pay no heed to the whistling, which to the boy were uttered twenty times as often and as loud as there was any need. One of the savages was stirring the fire with a stick, while the others were looking stupidly on.

Drawing back his head, Elwood looked up among the rocks in the direction of the signals for some sign of his friends. He was startled into a suppressed exclamation by the sight of Tim O'Rooney's hat and face passing along the path above him; but before he could catch his eye it was gone and he saw it no more.

The whistling sound now gradually retreated until it sounded quite far away, and Elwood began to feel more at ease, although not entirely so. He wondered greatly that the suspicions of the Indians were not excited, and that they did not hasten away at once to destroy his friends.

The report of Tim O'Rooney's gun that slew the antelope sounded fearfully near, and sent a shiver of terror through the youngster crouching in his hiding-place. At the same time, as he looked stealthily out, he saw that it had attracted the attention of the Indians. All five were standing on their feet, with their loose blankets hung over their shoulders, and gesticulating with their arms. The sound of their voices was plainly heard where he stood, and a thrill of hope ran through him as he imagined that he recognised in one of them a resemblance to that of Shasta, the Pah Utah.