Mickey O’Rooney gave a yell of defiance as he vanished from view, horse and rider unharmed by the scattering shots which followed them, even after they were lost to sight. It was well and bravely done, and yet it would have failed altogether but for the wonderful cunning and shrewd courage of Simpson, who had kept close to the heels of the flying horse. It was when the crisis came—when the Apaches were closing around the fugitive, and it seemed inevitable that he should reap the natural reward of his own foolhardiness that Sut had acted. When the warriors were confident of their success, he discharged his rifle with marvelous quickness, and with a more important result than the mere tumbling over of his man.
There was a momentary check, a sudden stoppage, lasting but a few seconds, when the foe rallied and made for the fugitive. But that brief interval of time was precisely what was needed, and it secured the safety of Mickey and his steed. It mattered not that Sut Simpson as good as threw away his life by his chivalrous act. He knew that full well, while awaiting the opportunity, as much as he did when he raised his faithful weapon and discharged it into the group.
The moment the piece was fired he knew that his mission was accomplished, and he began a retreat, moving stealthily and rapidly backward, for the purpose of getting beyond the range of the redskins before they should fairly recover from the escape of the horseman. But events were proceeding rather too rapidly. Before he could cover any appreciable distance, the baffled wretches turned upon him and it was flight or fight, or, more likely, both.
The Apaches were brave, they knew the character of the dreaded scout and they were not desirous of rushing, one after another, to their doom. Sut was certain that, if he should turn and run, the howling horde would be at his heels. The instant there should appear any possibility of his escape, they would all open upon him, and it was impossible that any such good fortune should attend him as had marked the flight of Mickey. It was his purpose, therefore, to keep up his retreat with his face to his foe, forcing all to maintain their distance, until he could reach the side of the ravine, where, possibly, a sudden desperate effort might enable him to outwit the redskins.
The scout had not yet been given time in which to reload his piece, but the uncertainty whether it contained another charge prevented them from making an impetuous rush upon him. Besides, they knew that he carried a formidable knife, and, like every border character, he was a professor of the art of using it. All at once it occurred to Sut that he might thin out his assailants by the use of his revolver. If he could drop three or four, or more, and then follow it up with a savage onslaught, he believed he could open the way. He felt for the weapon, and was terribly disappointed to find it gone.
He recalled that he had given it to Fred Munson when he was left alone with the mustang. So, as he had nothing but his knife, he placed his hand upon the haft, glaring defiantly at his enemies, while he continued walking slowly backward, and gradually edging toward the side of the grove. But Apaches were plenty in that latitude, and the business had scarcely opened when three or four warriors commenced a stealthy approach upon the scout from the rear. He glanced hastily over his shoulder several times, while slowly retreating, to guard against this very danger; but the Indians, seeing the point for which the fugitive was making, ensconced themselves near it and waited.
At the moment Sut placed his hand upon the knife, he was within twenty feet of the three Indians crouching in the grass, with no suspicion of their proximity. One of them arose to his feet, quietly swung a coiled lasso about his head (the distance being so slight that no great effort was necessary), and then with great dexterity dropped it over the head of the unsuspicious scout, inclosing his arms, when he jerked it taut with the suddenness of lightning.
A few seconds only were necessary for Sut to free himself, but ere those seconds could be taken advantage of, he was drawn over backward. The entire party sprang upon him and seized his gun and knife.
“Skulp me, if this don’t look as though I’d made a slip of it this time!” muttered Sut, as he bounded like lightning to his feet. “When yer varmints undertake a job of this kind, yer show that yer ain’t no slouches, but have a good knowledge of the business.”
As if anxious to deserve the complimentary opinion of their distinguished prisoner, they coiled the lasso again and again about him, until he was fastened by a dozen rounds and was no more able to contend against his captors then if he were an infant.
As all the warriors recognized the prisoner, their delight was something extraordinary. They danced about him in the most grotesque and frantic manner, screeching, yelling, and indulging in all sorts of tantalizing gestures and signs at Simpson, who was unable to resist them or help himself.
There was a certain dignity in the carriage of Sut under these trying circumstances. Instead of replying by taunts to the taunts of his enemies, he maintained silence, permitting them to wag on to their heart’s content.
It was wonderful how rapidly the tidings of the capture spread. The hootings and yellings that marked the rejoicings of the party were heard by those who were further away, and they signaled it to the warriors beyond. The redskins came from every direction, and, within half an hour from the time Sut Simpson was lassoed, there must have been nearly a hundred Apaches gathered around him. These all continued their frantic rejoicings, while, as before, the prisoner remained silent.
His eyes were wandering over the company in search of Lone Wolf, their great leader; but that redoubtable chieftain was nowhere to be seen. Sut was certain that he was somewhere near at hand, and must know of all that had happened on this spot.
Did Simpson expect anything like mercy from the Apaches? Not a whit of it. He had fought them too long, had inflicted too much injury, and understood them too thoroughly to look for anything of the kind. Besides, even if he was innocent of having ever harmed a redskin, he would not have received the slightest indulgence at their hands. The Apaches are like all the rest of their species, in their inherent opposition to mercy on general principles.
The afternoon was well spent, and, as a means of occupying his mind until his case was disposed of, he set himself speculating as to what their precise intentions were. Being quite familiar with the Apache tongue, he caught the meaning of many of their expressions; but for a considerable time these were confined to mere exultations over his capture. The excitement was too great for anything like deliberation, or concerted council.
“It may be the skunks are waitin’ fur Lone Wolf,” he muttered, as he stood with his arms bound to his side. “They wouldn’t dare to do much without axing him, though I ’spose they might a skulp any man wharever they got the chance, without stopping to ax questions. Helloa! thar he comes!”
This exclamation was caused by the sudden turning of heads, and a sort of hush that fell upon the group for the moment, close to the approach of someone on horseback. It was already so close to dusk that he could not be identified until he came closer, when Sut was surprised to find that it was not the chieftain, after all. It was a man altogether different in appearance, probably a subordinate chief, who had performed some daring deed which had won him the admiration of his comrades. The indications, too, were that he brought interesting news about something.
“That varmint has been away somewhar,” concluded Sut, carefully noting everything, “and they expect him to tell something worth hearin’, and I guess they’re about kerrect, so I’ll see what I kin do in the way of listening myself.”
The scout was right in his supposition. The Indian was the avant courier of a party three or four times as great as that which had gathered about him in the ravine. His companions had separated and gone in other directions, while he, learning the course taken by his chief, Lone Wolf, had hastened to report directly to ............