Chapter XXXVII.
RESCUED BY THE RED MUSTANG.
The scouting party of Mexican cavalry reported by Ping were few in number, and were a long distance from any support. They had been willing enough to follow the movements of a solitary Indian boy, but were not disposed for a skirmish with the braves who now rode out of the forest behind Tan-tan-e-o-tan. There would have been no brush at all if it had not been for the revengeful tumult in the heart of Ping, and for the fact that he was so splendidly armed and mounted.
The men in uniform yonder belonged to the troops who had slain Kah-go-mish, and Ping shouted, in Apache, "I am the son of a great chief!"
He disobeyed a warning whoop of Tan-tan-e-o-tan, for he was bent upon riding within range, and Dick bore him swiftly onward. All the warlike thoughts and hopes which make up the thoughts of an Indian boy were dancing wildly around in his fevered brain. He was a warrior, facing the ancient enemies of his race, the men who had killed his father.
Alas for Ping! Range for him was also range for the now retreating cavalry, and his one fruitless shot was replied to by a volley.
"Zst-ping!" he exclaimed, involuntarily shouting his own nickname, as the bullets whizzed past him, and then he felt suddenly sick and dizzy. One ball had not gone by.
Dick obeyed the rein and wheeled towards the forest, but after that he was left to his own guidance. Ping was not unconscious, and he clung proudly, courageously to his rifle—Cal's repeater. He held on to the pommel of the saddle with one hand, but he hardly knew more than that he was riding the "heap pony"—riding, riding, riding—somewhere.
Tan-tan-e-o-tan alone followed, at a considerable distance, the wounded son of Kah-go-mish, the other braves dashing away at once to join the band upon its eagerly pushed retreat into the mountains.
Under the shade of the forest trees, near the waning camp-fire at which Wah-wah-o-be had cooked his breakfast, lay poor Cal. For him, apparently, all hope had departed, for he had vainly struggled to loosen the forked stakes which held down his hands and his feet.