The indistinct that had his hope soon ceased, and he was compelled to believe the Comanche had given up his intention of trying to gain a stealthy shot at him and was now devoting himself to the of the .
How he longed to through the scuttle and take part in the stirring events that must soon be under way there! What short work he would make of the who had dared to assume such a risk!
But it was useless to regret his own shortsightedness, now that it rendered him powerless to strike a blow for his friends. He crept to the peak of the roof, and every portion thus brought into his field of vision. Not the slightest sound fell upon his ear that could indicate danger, nor could he discern anything of his enemies.
The wind was still blowing fitfully, and he heard the familiar of the mesquite bush, with now and then a signal passing between the Comanches. He listened in vain for the noise made by the of their mustangs. They seemed to have ceased their aimless back and , and were probably plotting some new form of .
Suddenly the of a horse’s feet struck him. It broke upon his hearing for an instant, and then ceased as as it had made itself manifest.
It was as if a steed were galloping over the soft earth, and, reaching a small bridge of , dashed over them with two or three bounds, his hoofs immediately becoming inaudible in the yielding ground beyond.
That which might have puzzled a listener was plain to the Texan, who had spent many years on the plains of the Southwest. He knew that what might be called a in the fitful wind had brought the sound to him. A sudden change of direction––ended as soon as it began––whirled the noise as straight across the intervening space as if it had been fired by an arrow.
The sound was similar to that which he had noticed many times that evening, but the impression came to him that it a significance which belonged to none of the others. It was a single horse, and he was going at a moderate speed, which, however, was the case with most of those he had heard.
All at once the sound broke upon his ear again, but this time it was accompanied by the noise of many other hoofs.
“They are cattle,” was his conclusion; “a part of the has been stampeded, and one of the men is trying to round them up: it was his mustang that I heard––ah! there it goes again!”
It was the crack of a rifle and the 146of a mortally struck person that startled him this time.
“I believe that was a Comanche who has gone down before the rifle of one of our men.”
As the reader is aware, the Texan was correct in every particular, for it was the report of Gleeson’s Winchester, which ended the career of the pressing Avon Burnet so hard, that reached the captain as he lay on the roof of his own dwelling.
The whimsical nature of the wind, that had been blowing all the night, excluded further sounds. The stillness that succeeded seemed so in its way that it might have alarmed a more person. Once the faintest possible of the cattle’s hoofs was detected, but it quickly , and nothing more of the kind was noticeable.
It was clear that the Comanches in the vicinity of the cabin must have all that interested the Texan. Whatever the issue of the
Join or Log In!
You need to log in to continue reading
(Left Keyword <-) Previous:
CHAPTER XVII.AT FAULT.
Back
Next:
CHAPTER XIX.DOWN THE LADDER.
(Right Keyword:->)