CHAPTER X.
Young Edwin Inwood had been deprived so long of his hunt, that he determined to improve his time to the utmost. He took a direction exactly opposite to the one pursued by his brother, and soon found himself in the midst of the wood which contained their new home, where it was open and easily traveled.
It was his wish to secure an antelope, which were quite abundant in this section, although almost entirely unknown a little further south, and he walked very carefully, well aware of the acuteness of their hearing. A quarter of a mile or so brought him to a broad, wild ravine, and, looking down this, the first object that met his eye was a group of Mohave Indians seated around a camp-fire. Three sat smoking, and two were engaged in dressing a fine plump antelope, and preparing it for their supper.
They were fully a hundred feet below where the boy stood, and several hundred yards distant. He watched them for some time with interest. Each had around his person or near him, one of those brilliant and wonderfully woven blankets, which have made the Indians of the distant southwest known all over the country. They were painted and daubed up like a lot of children’s toys, their coarse black hair hanging loosely over their shoulders, while its usual stiffness was intensified by the rainbow-hued stuff smeared among it. It makes a fellow look hideously comical to see his face of all colors, and there was something in the outlandish look of these Mohaves which would have brought a grim smile to the countenance of him who had scarcely ever laughed.
They never once raised their heads, although Edwin scrutinized them so closely that he was sure they were a portion of the party which had attacked them at the cave, and he recognized the very individual who was so handsomely vanquished in his attempt to shake hands with Jim Tubbs. This being the case, he entertained much less fear of them than he would, had they been strangers.
But, recollecting that he had come out for the purpose of obtaining food, he turned away and wandered off in another direction. While he was asking himself whether it would be prudent to fire his gun in their vicinity or not, a fine plump young antelope rushed by him with the speed of the wind. Quick as thought his gun was over his shoulder, and, with a frenzied leap, the beautiful creature dropped, and, after a few frantic struggles, lay dead.
Edwin hurried up to him, and, drawing his knife, commenced dressing it and securing the choicest portions for their supper. Absorbed thus in his work, he forgot entirely the proximity of the aborigines. He had about completed his work, when, with lightning-like suddenness, a reflection of his peril came over him, and he rose erect and glanced about him.
Providentially his first look was directed toward the proper point, and he saw at quite a distance two Indians, standing perfectly motionless, and watching him seemingly with great interest. The moment he raised his head they darted each behind a tree, evidently not through fear, but with a far different object.
Edwin was a boy with an intelligence and perception beyond his years, and he immediately saw his danger, and looked furtively around to learn the best direction in which to retreat. His first thought was to run straight from the red men and, observing that the wood was thicker and more broken, he did not hesitate, but started off at once.