When I looked back, I saw that all of ’em had slowed down consid’able, out o’ respect to the elephant gun; but I could still count seventeen, so we hadn’t seen ’em all before. When they started towards the head of the path again, I took a shot at Ty Jones; but I didn’t savvy the rear sight, and all it did was to make ’em slow down once more. Then I slid down the path and hot-footed it down the ravine. I saw signs o’ hosses, so I knew they had rode most of their trip, and would be in a position to circle around all they wanted to.
I soon caught up with the others, and Tank was puffin’ purty freely. All the rest were runnin’ easy, and we came out o’ the mouth o’ the ravine without seein’ a single soul. Now, we hardly knew what to do. It was about the same distance from the mouth o’ the ravine to the first curve in it, as it was to the woman’s cabin; so I told Spider to stay at the corner o’ the cabin, and watch that curve.
Then we went around and found the door locked. We called twice to the woman, but the’ was no reply; so Olaf picked up a big stone and knocked off the lock. We made a quick examination; but the’ was no one there. I posted Horace and Spider in this cabin to watch the mouth o’ the ravine through the window facin’ it, and to shoot into ’em, should they foller us close.
We next went to the big house, where we had more trouble as everything was fastened with bars on the inside, except the front door which had an immense padlock on the outside. We finally broke it off, and out dashed three o’ their confounded dogs. We killed ’em, and went inside; but the’ was no one else there. Next we went to the workshop, and after breakin’ off the padlock, we found the Friar and Promotheus gagged and tied. The Friar was sad, and Promotheus was mad. We sent ’em up to the cook-shack to get on speakin’ terms with food again, and rummaged the rest o’ the buildin’s; but could find neither the woman nor the Chink, and by the time we were through, it was gettin’ along towards dark.
I set Tank to cookin’ a meal while the rest of us carried logs and piled ’em in the mouth o’ the ravine. It would be moonlight up to ten o’clock, and after that I intended to have a fire to see by. We also set up some logs at each o’ the two fords. After supper we divided into two equal groups o’ four each, to stand guard, each man to watch two hours, one at the window of the new cabin, the other from the porch of the old one, where a view across both fords could be had.
The Friar was purty downcast at our not bein’ able to find the woman, and at our still bein’ in a state o’ war; but he didn’t kick none. He promised not to go over and surrender himself any more, and said he would stand guard careful, and warn us the first thing ’at happened. We decided ’at they would probably attack us that night, and we finally chose the old shack, as it had water piped into it from a spring a hundred yards above. I figured ’at they’d be most apt to come down the ravine, so I picked out the Friar, Olaf, and Tank to help me watch it, and the others to take turns watchin’ the fords.
About half past nine, we lit the fires and turned in, with Oscar on the porch, and Olaf at the window of the new cabin. I thought they wouldn’t come before two o’clock, and had it arranged so ’at the last ford watches would be held by Spider and Promotheus.
[CHAPTER FORTY-ONE—THE NIGHT-ATTACK]
I wasn’t sleepy, and lyin’ stretched out is the worst cure for sleeplessness ’at ever I tried; so after twistin’ about for a while, I got up and took a look around. Oscar hadn’t seen a thing, which I took to be a mighty encouragin’ sign. Mostly, when you set a boy on guard he rouses ya out to meet the enemy every fifteen minutes, and then goes to sleep just before the enemy actually does arrive; but Olaf had trained Oscar to do what he was told, as he was told—when he was told—and then not to talk about it for a couple o’ years afterward. Oscar was reliable to a degree; but for conversational purposes, I’d sooner have been shipwrecked with a brindle bull pup.
I didn’t have any doubts of Olaf; but I dropped in to see what sort of a view he had, now that it had got dark. The fire was burnin’ high, and the ravine was as bright as day. Enough o’ the fire would last until mornin’ to give a good view, so I strolled down around the bunk-shack and stables. I saw a form movin’ in the shadow o’ the cottonwoods, and stalked it careful, finally gettin’ close enough to make out the Friar.