Through Apache Land

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

Whiz—whiz! Out shot the loop like the dart of a rattlesnake, not at the head of the frightened lad, but at that of the mustang!

Ah! but the animal was intelligent and equal to the occasion. That round, clear eye saw what was coming, and he was ready.

The loop, guided with unerring precision, and thrown with great power, was scarcely over the ears of the creature, when he dropped his head like a flash. The coil, instead of passing over his nose, dropped like a tossed wreath upon the top of his head, slid along his neck, and over the crown and back of Ned Chadmund, who shivered as if he felt the squirming of a cobra along his spine. The mustang burst into a tremendous gait at this moment, and was drawing away from his pursuers so rapidly that the lasso dropped off his haunches and the flying pony was almost instantly beyond its reach.

But the second Apache was near at hand and threw his thong from a closer point, and with a venomous spitefulness that would not be evaded. He evidently knew the horse, and was determined upon securing him. The wonderful mustang, however, was equal to the occasion, and, with the same flash-like motion, his beautiful head dropped still lower than before, and the same useless sliding along his back was repeated.

His speed was now tremendous, and he drew away so rapidly from both horsemen that neither of them gained a second opportunity to try the lasso upon him. Ned did not seek to control the motions or direction of the noble steed. It knew better than did he what to do, and the boy only clung to him the tighter, and prayed to Heaven to guard them both from harm.

It was not to be expected that the Apaches would submit quietly to be baffled in this manner. Unable to capture either horse or rider, they still had their rifles, and did not hesitate to call them into requisition the moment it became apparent that no other recourse was at their command.

At the moment of firing perhaps fifty yards separated pursuer and pursued. The two guns were discharged so nearly simultaneously, that they might have well been mistaken for one. The escape of Ned was a narrow one. He felt one of the bullets pierce his clothing, and a sting in the hand told him that he had been slightly wounded. At the same moment he felt a peculiar twitch or quiver of the steed, which indicated that he also had been hit. It was like the jar of the smoothly-moving machinery when some slight obstruction gets into the works. Still there was no abatement of the tremendous speed of the magnificent little animal, and Ned concluded that the hurt was not a serious one. A minute later two more reports were heard, but they were faint and far away, and the bullets sped wide of the mark.

All danger was passed from that quarter, and once more Ned straightened up, and, looking about him, felt that the Indian mustang he bestrode had been the means of saving his life. But for him he would have been in the hands of the Apaches long since.

"I wonder whether there are Indians in every bush?" he said, as his eyes roamed over the prairie in search of some place of shelter. "They seem to be watching for me from every tree in the country. Well, my good horse, we shall have to keep on the go till dark comes, when we'll get some chance to creep off and hide."

Looking to the southward, a wooded section was to be seen, but Ned concluded to give all such places a wide berth for the present. He had missed recapture by too narrow a chance to risk it blindly again. A long distance to the northwest he discerned a range of hills of moderate elevation, and it occurred to him that there was a suitable place in which to spend the coming night. By journeying forward at this easy, swinging pace, he calculated upon reaching them about nightfall, and in the shelter which they offered he was confident of being able to hide away beyond the vision of the most vigilant Apache or Comanche.