Thanks to the guide’s memory and cunning, they emerged from the Gulches at sunrise, and struck out into the yellow plain—safe and sound, wholly uninjured, and victorious.
“Five men victorious over thirty Apaches,” cried Jack. “A tiger-feat—Hercules couldn’t do better with Sampson and Heenan, with fifty gorillas thrown in for variety. Three and a tiger for the bravest, smartest, handsomest men in the world. With a will, now!”
With a will they were given.
CHAPTER XIV.
WHO SPEAKS?
When at the mysterious shot and death of one of their number, the Apaches fled down the hillock, they scuttled for the wagons as offering the best concealment. However, their doing so was to their loss, diminishing their number by two. Duncan, incensed at the ruthless waste of his flour, and in perfect keeping with his disposition, had lain in watchful wait for an opportunity to present itself whereby he could revenge his loss. An opportunity occurred as they fled toward the wagons. One savage, with a scarlet diamond on his broad back, offering a fair aim, he took advantage of it and fired. At the same time, Pedro, ever ready to embrace any opportunity, fired also.
Both shots were successful. Duncan’s Apache threw his arms aloft, and with a yell, plunged headlong; the other sunk to the ground, with a sharp cry of pain, then crawled slowly away, dragging himself painfully. But he was summarily stopped by Duncan, who emptied one of his cylinders at him. This was sufficient; with a last expiring scowl back upon his foes, he settled prone upon the sand, and his soul went to the happy hunting-grounds.
“There have been strange happenings here lately,” gloomily remarked Pedro, ramming down a bullet. “Who shot just now—tell me that?”
“Who can?” replied Mr. Wheeler. “Oh, God! if one misfortune were not enough to bear without a mystery, deep and black, to drive one to torments. Where is my child?” and he buried his face in his hands.
“And where is my gold—my precious, yellow treasure?” fiercely demanded Pedro.