In the Hands of the Cave-Dwellers

by G. A. Henty

"I know nothing whatever, señor. I was eating my breakfast when I heard a sudden yell, and knew that it was the Apache war-whoop, and that there must be a big force of them. There was evidently no fighting to be done, so I caught up my rifle and pistols and made for the bush. These two peons who were outside followed me. I told them to hide as best they could, and I went on into the pool, found a good place under some thick bushes, hid my powder-horn and weapons handy for use close by, and lay down with my head out of water, listening. Already they were down at the huts, and I heard the cries of the peons they caught there. Luckily I was the only Mexican above. A few shots were fired up at the hacienda, and I thought I heard screams, but, owing to the yells of the Indians, I could not be sure. Presently it all died away. I don't fancy they suspected that anyone had got away, the attack being so sudden; at any rate, they made no search here. I made up my mind to lie down till most of them would be asleep and then to make for the river, and I told the peons that we must each shift for ourselves, as we had more chances of getting away singly than if together." All this was spoken in a low voice.

"The principal thing that I wanted to ask you is, do you know whether the señorita was killed, or whether they have kept her to carry off? But, of course, you don't know."

"They would not kill her," the man said confidently; "but so far as I know, they have not even caught her. I was at the stables maybe half an hour before the señorita came down and had her horse saddled. She had a basket with her, and told me she was going to ride up the valley to that wigwam that remained when the Indians went away, carrying as much meat as their ponies could take. There were an old Indian and his wife left there—she had got a fever or something, and was too ill to travel, and the señorita was going to take a basket of food and some medicine that the padre had made up for the old man. I have been thinking of her all day. I should say she was coming back when the red-skins rode up the valley after the cattle. She could hardly have helped seeing them, and I wondered whether she would take to the trees and ride on this way until after they had passed, or whether she had turned and ridden on. If she did the first, she is pretty sure to have been captured when she got down near home; if she went the other way, she gave them a mighty long chase, for there is not a horse on the estate as fast as hers, and as for the Indian ponies, she could leave them behind as if they were standing still."

"Thank God, there is a hope, then!" Will exclaimed. "Now we must move farther off and chat it over."

When they had gone a quarter of a mile from the house they stopped. Antonio told the two peons that the rafts had started fully two hours before. "The current is only about a mile and a half an hour, and if you cross the river and keep on, you ought to catch them up before morning, and can then swim off to them. Don't keep this side of the river, there are red-skins on the bank; but if you stay on this side of the valley, among the trees, down to the river, you will meet none of them. We have come that way."

The peons at once started.

"Now, señor, will you go on to where the horses are? Sancho and I will go back to the house; he understands the Apache language. We will crawl up near the fires, and I should think that we are pretty certain to hear if they have caught the señorita or not. However, we may be some time, so do not be anxious, and don't move if you hear a sudden row, for we might miss you in the dark. We shall make straight to this tree, and for a bit my horse must carry double; you had better hand your jacket to Señor Harland, Sancho, and take his blanket."

"How far are the horses?"

"There are three of them about two hundred yards farther on."

"I will go there first, then," the man said. "This is a terrible business, señor."